Green and Gray
by Hakkai's Lady
Summary: COMPLETE Life must go on after the war for Draco Malfoy. Scarred and alone, can He face life without Harry? Maybe he won't have to.HPDM HGBW SSNL PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
1. Default Chapter

Green and Gray

Disclaimer—All I own is my insanity. I don't own HP and Co.

Part 1: Forever Ago

He stared at the blankets draped over his lap, the wall, the floor—anywhere but at the mirror on the bedside table. For days, the healers had been pestering him to look at himself and come to terms with what had happened to him. His perfect face was no longer perfect. Why look in the mirror? It would only make him wish harder for what he could never possess. Absently, he lifted his hand to the bandages. They really weren't needed anymore, as he had been healed as much as he ever could hope to be, but he couldn't stand the thought of taking them off. This was his life now, no matter how much he yearned for things to be different. Now or never.

Surpressing the little voice that cried never, he gingerly began to remove the gauze one layer at a time. Violent shakes ran through him as the last one fell. Lifting the mirror with both leaden hands, he took a long, hard breath and turned it over. "My God!"

His cry and the crash of the glass echoed through the room.

"Draco!" A thin, dark haired woman burst through the door. Concern lit in her eyes, but not shock. She had seen him before.

"Don't look at me! Please, Hermione, don't look at me," he pleaded. Tears fell over his once smooth cheeks.

"Draco, it's all right. I'm your friend," she assured him with emotion in her own weak voice.

"How can you say it's alright?" The border between anger and despair was now so thin that it was indecernable. "How, Hermione, can you look at me and say you're my friend? How can you even look at me and say anything?"

"I love you, Draco, no matter what you look like. I love you, Neville loves you, Harry loved you, Ginny loved you and even…even R…he loved you. You are all I have left. We have to believe that it will be alright, because if it's not….what did any of it matter!" Sobs racked through her tiny body.

For the first time in weeks, Draco looked at his friend and saw her pain. She had lost far too much weight and her skin was as pale as paper. Grief had killed the spark in her eyes. Taking her in his arms, he sighed. "Do you always have to be right? I love you too, Mione. But I don't know if I can go back to living like I did before."

"I know I can't," she admitted. "I've been living on Sevrus' couch for the past two weeks just so I wouldn't have to go home."

The image of the Weasly's small flat came to mind. Warm, cozy, sparsely furnished with well-loved pieces taken from Ron's parents. Hermione and Ron had been married the day after they graduated from Hogwarts in a small service. Despite the darkness of the times, it had been a joyful affair. It was the last day of true happiness they had all shared. That day was the first time he had seen Hermione look truly beautiful, but his eyes had drifted longingly in another direction. Harry—it hurt so much to remember him—had looked a mess in his dress robes standing next to a red-faced, red haired man. He swallowed hard, they'd barely been married a year when Ron died in a vain attempt to save Ginny from Lucius.

His stomach turned. He could see the look in those cold eyes, even now. No, he didn't regret killing him. Family be damned! He would not regret it. Lucius Malfoy had sold his soul to the darkness long before Draco had been born. Growing up, there were times when he wondered if his father had ever had one. The battles between Death Eaters and Aurors had been fierce, and it was pure fate that lead father and son to opposite sides of the field. He remembered how his skin had burned from Lucius' curses. Crying out, he forced himself to stand and fight. There was a second, that seemed to last forever as Draco stared into those cold eyes, watching them die.

He had passed out after that, and awakened hours later in St. Mungo's with Neville sitting by his bed. No one would have recognized the Griffindor as the joke he had been in his younger years. "Draco," he said softly, "it's over Harry finished it."

"Harry?" he had managed to croaked out over his burnt lips.

"He left you and Hermione with me, before going against Voldemort. No one has seen him since," Neville told him.

Holding back tears. Draco asked, "who else?"

"Dumbledore, Ron, Ginny, McGonagall, Tonks, Remus, Charlie, and Seamus. All dead."

"Harry will be back," he said for his own benefit as well as Neville's. But Harry hadn't come back.

Shaking away the moment, he tightened his grip on the bony body. "What do you say we leave magic behind us?"

"Draco? You don't mean it?"

He nodded. "I do. This place isn't for me anymore. I'm the scarred remains of the Malfoy family—a dark family. I don't want that name, or that notoriety. But I'm not so sure I could handle muggle life on my own."

A wan smile appeared on her lips. "We can't have you hexing the toaster, now can we? I'll just have to go with you."

A week later, Hermione began to move their things into a two bedroom apartment in muggle London. It did wonders for her outlook to be out and doing something constructive. Draco would be out of the hospital soon enough, and he had no plans on visiting his childhood home—or hell, as it should have been called. The house elves had packed what few items he asked for and sent them over already. Not once did he question his choice. He didn't think he could stand the stares, the gossip all surrounding his face and his name.

His face. He still had a hard time looking in the mirror. The burn scars were deep, and sprawled across most of his face. Nothing could take them away, or even lessen their appearance, the healers had told him.

His mind waltzed back once more to days when he had been unmarred. Harry had been with him then, even if not in the sense Draco had hoped for. They had become steadfast partners in the order. Their lives had been on the line many times over and each time they had managed to save each other…until that final day.

He remembered how beautiful the dawn of that day had seemed to him, staring out his window from the safe house. Lost in reverie, he hadn't heard Harry creep up behind him. "What if I had been a dark wizard?" he asked with amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Bad enough, you're a bloody Griffindor." Draco couldn't stop staring at the seductive smirk on Harry's lips.

"Mmm, at least I wasn't a no good Slythrin." For a moment, something flashed in Harry's eyes. Draco was sure he'd imagined it, but then he licked his lips and shifted. "Draco, there's something I have to tell you."

The blond nodded. He could feel his heart pounding.

"I…I…All this time, I've been afraid of you."

"Me? I'd think you'd have bigger problems than me."

Harry shook his head. "Who said it was a problem? No matter what I've felt for you, it's been as strong as anything could be. And now…" He paused for a moment.

"Now what?" Draco prodded.

"Now, I can feel that this will be over soon and if I don't tell you now, I might never get the chance…"

"Don't say that," he interrupted. Harry looked at him with a fierce desire in his eyes.

"I have to say it, because it's true. Everything in my life rests on 'if.' I have to be the one to fight him, Draco and I might not survive, but if I do. If I live through this, I want to be with you."

Draco didn't realize that he'd been holding his breath. "Harry, I've been in love with you for quite some time, but I didn't think that you felt anything."

"I feel everything, but I have to do this and I don't want to hurt you. I love you. Will you wait for me to finish this?"

"Oh God, Harry. I want you now." He crushed the dark haired man with a passionate kiss, and found that Harry returned it full force. When the embrace broke, Draco found himself staring into eyes so green they put every other shade to shame.

But that was a forever ago.


	2. Forever Ago II

Green and Gray

Forever Ago Part II

Hermione shuddered as she loving ran her fingers down one of Ron's old sweaters. There was a tightness in her chest that had settled there two months ago and hadn't left. When she'd woken up in St. Mungo's, she had been too weak to be told, but in the pit of her stomach she'd already known. In the deepest part of her, she had known the moment Ron left her side during the battle that it would be the last time she saw her husband alive. She had never realized that it was possible to hurt this badly.

Shame gripped her as she remembered the woman who had made this sweater. Molly. She and Arthur had lost three children—four if you counted Percy, who would rot in Azkaban for the rest of his life. The last time she had seen her, Molly was still in shock. She spoke of Ron, Charlie, and Ginny as if they were still alive, even making Ginny's bed each morning. Ginny had been in her sixth year and shown such promise. Then there was Charlie, who had been such a kind man with a sense for adventure. Ron…Oh God, she couldn't think about Ron.

Hermione Granger had loved Ron Weasly from the moment she met him. Even when he was being a prat, he made her come alive. Ron had made her realize that there were more important things than studies.

Time faded back. She was seventeen and staring at the love of her life. Ron had taken her to the opera (tickets courtesy of one Draco Malfoy) and fallen asleep before the first song was through. The couple behind them had taken exception with his snoring, and angrily kicked the back of his seat. Ron shot out of his seat and cried, "What was that for?" They were both asked pointedly to leave. He had been so embarrassed by the whole thing that she couldn't even summon up one of her famous lectures.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I really am," he told her as they wandered the streets of muggle London. "You deserve that kind of thing….uh, not the getting booted out part, but the opera part. You deserve to be wined and dined and all of that. I wanted to give you a nice night."

"Really Ron, I don't need all that. Besides, being escorted out of the opera by two large ushers was quite the adventure. I never need entertainment when you're around," she said with a laugh. She took his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips.

"Most of our adventures are Harry-related-events." He twined a piece of her hair between his fingers.

"But I went along for you," she whispered.

Clearing his throat, he took his tie off. Her breath caught as he dropped to one knee. His hands shook as he opened a small black box to reveal a modest diamond ring. "I know our lives are hectic, but I love you very much. Hermione Granger, will you be my wife?"

"Oh, Ron," she sighed.

"I'm sorry, Mione! God, I shouldn't rush you. Forget I said anything," he begged frantically.

She shook her head. "No, I want to be your wife. Ron, I love you too. I just never expected…"

A smile played across his boyish face, and he wasted on time before pushing the ring on to her finger. "I'm the luckiest man alive."

The ring fit perfectly, and gleamed like a dream on her hand. "It's so beautiful!"

"It was my mum's. When I told my parents about asking you, she wouldn't hear of me buying a ring. Maybe one day, we'll have a son. He can give it to a woman he loves just as desperately as I love you."

The memory hurt. Hermione sobbed as she stared at that same ring. It was no longer a dream of the future, but a sad reminder of what should have been. Everything she had once loved was gone. She had honestly meant what she had told Draco about him being all that she had. All of her friends were gone, save Draco, Sevrus, and Neville. Her family had disowned her when she refused to abandon the magic world during the war. She cried bitterly for what had once been.

Everyone had suffered. Not one person had made it out of the war unscathed. Sevrus had lost Remus. Draco had lost Harry and his face. The Weaslys had lost too much. Pain prevailed in a time that had once promised such joy. They had all fought and bled for the hope that life could be better without the darkness hanging by a thread over them. Never did they dream that it would end up like this. Once they had believed in the simple truth that the good guys could win the day and live happily ever after, but that was a long time ago.


	3. Forever Ago III

AN Please Review Begs with big puppy dog eyes

Forever Ago Part III

He barely noticed the stares of the men at the end of the bar. They had seen men bigger than him fall flat on the floor after only half of what he'd drunk. The man in black didn't seem phased by it, though. He simply drained his glass and motioned for more.

This, he was convinced, was hell. The air stank, the sound system grated on his nerves, and he was surrounded by faces that he was quite certain belonged to neandrathals. But none of that even scratched the surface of what really made it hell. Remus wasn't here. If Remus was alive, he would never have even thought about coming to such a depressing dive. He hated Remus for dying after he'd made such a valiant effort at opening Snape's heart.

For twenty years—twenty fucking years, Remus had been there in his life in one capacity or another. It wasn't right that he should be gone. Not now. One more shot swallowed, and another moment passed still sober enough to think. He'd been here before, more often than he would admit to that annoying Gryffindor if she asked, but he'd never managed to get to the oblivion he wished for, He came here in hopes that he could forget twenty years of his life and two people that he had cared about.

Lily. He wasn't sure why Remus' death had brought her back to his mind. Perhaps it was because he had been on the brink of happiness twice and twice had it ripped from him. Remus had been the deepest, but Lily was the first. In fact, she was the one who had brought Remus into his life in earnest.

She had been his secret sin against his dark brethren. So beautiful, so pure of heart, but to believe what Voldemort taught would mean possibly killing her. That was what brought him to the light side. He had risked the wrath of the dark lord himself for her. It was his seventh year, when he finally confessed his love for her. She had even given him reason to believe that she would leave the golden one, James Potter, for him, but all was for nothing when she revealed that she was pregnant. Having never touched her himself for more than a kiss, they knew who the father was. Tearfully, she said her goodbyes and went off to wed James. Harry's birth had been the very thing that crushed his heart. It had taken him years to forgive the boy for the simple act of being born. Remus had helped him with that.

Remus had been the one person who could really get him to open up, and look at things objectively. It was in Remus' nature to heal wounds, just as it was in Severus' nature to brood over them. Their first time had come about largely for that very reason. Remus had come to him after Lily's abandonment. He had managed to break free of the marauders long enough to console Severus.

Remus had found him slumped against a wall staring at the dark mark embedded in his arm. Maybe things could have been different if this had never existed, he thought wearily. So deep in his thoughts, he barely heard the door creak open, or the footfalls across the room. In fact, Lupin had been there for some time before Severus even noticed him, but that was not unusual. Given the werewolf's constant company, he was easy to forget as he was often over shadowed by the pettiness of the two dark haired men. "Severus," he called gently stirring the man from his thoughts.

"What do you want, Lupin? I'm not in the mood to entertain imbeciles today."

"I haven't come here for entertainment," he assured him.

Snape gave his signature snort of disgust. "The why did you come?"

"I came to tell you that I'm sorry. Lily told me everything, and I really do wish things could be different for you both." There was pity in those amber eyes, but there was also something else. Something that took a while for Severus to notice.

"Do you? Your mate has his beautiful bride at his side, I would think you would be rejoicing?"

"James is my friend, I make no apologies for that, but he isn't always the best man I know. Certainly not the best man for Lily. He sees her as just another shiny award that he's won. You really love her, don't you?" he asked.

"Ha, you assume that I actually know her well enough to answer that."

"You don't?"

"No, but I know I could love her and care for her. We were almost there, Lupin. Do you know what it's like to be so close to having your desire only to have it thrown in your face that you can't have it?"

"Yes, I do. I know exactly how it is to love someone you can't have."

"Who is this paragon of human virtue that has snared you, angel that you are? She must be very lovely indeed."

"Not a paragon of virtue, but someone who knows all to well the darker side of humanity. His beauty is something that not everyone sees, because the flaws in him make him so exquisite."

"And why can't you have him? Doesn't he fancy other men?"

"No, in fact he's pining away for a woman right now."

Severus' eyes turned cold. "If this is some kind of game, I'm in no mood. Whatever little farce you and your band of scoundrels have in mind, is over. Now leave."

"There is no game. I want you, but I am not about to pour myself out to you while you blather on about Lily. I have cared for you for sometime and you are as unreachable to me as Lily is to you. I know what you are feeling, Severus."

Snape shook his head and ran a hand through his black mane. "How could you know? I'm not so sure even I know what I'm feeling."

It took both men by surprise as Snape pulled the amber eyed man down and covered his mouth with a branding kiss.

"Severus, are you…what are you doing?" Remus asked shakily.

"Something we both want." With that said, Severus ran his hand up the side of Remus' thigh finding the hardness of him. He gave the man's cock a gentle caress until he heard a gutterul moan.

"Oh, God! Are you sure? I don't want to be a replacement for Lily," he cried torn between his need for pleasure, and his hunger for love.

"If I'd have wanted a replacement for Lily, I would have found someone with similar equipment," Snape growled.

"Point taken, but why? Why now?"

The look in Remus' eyes begged to be told he was loved, but Severus couldn't say it. Not yet, not after Lily. "I want you, Remus. I want to see where this goes."

There was not time to reply as clothes started to be shed, and they made an awkward dance to the bed. With one hand still clutching Remus's face, he reached down and drew their penises together. He adored the shutter of ectasy that ripped through his lover. In the moments that followed, it was impossible to tell where Severus ended and Remus began. Soon, they slept and Severus found himself waking alone in bed.

It would be thirteen years before they would make love again. All that time, Severus set out to chase Remus away. He had even brilliantly managed to get Lupin fired, but the stupid git still had found a way to make Severus love him. They both should have been smarter about it. Falling love during a war was suicide. Snape couldn't believe that he had been stupid enough to do it, but he had, and thus he sat in hell without Remus.

For a while, he had been truly happy, but now it was gone and he had only memories.


	4. A Moment Ago

A Moment Ago

Three years later

Draco wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, making sure his collar was still up high enough to cover his cheeks and adjusted the large, lightly tinted sunglasses over his eyes. Winter gave him an excuse to cover his face, something Hermione would scold him for in any other season. "You can't spend your life hiding who you are," she'd told him again and again. Of course it all circled back to the annoying fact that the woman was always right. He couldn't hide who he was, and the scars now were a part of him, but it didn't mean that he was completely alright with who he was.

The war had changed Draco. In some ways for the better, in some ways for the worse. Gone was the snobbish boy who spat hatred at everyone around him. He had been replaced by a brave, coolheaded, man with a compassionate heart. This Draco took pride in his work, and in his own independence. He never hesitated to take time for a friend, or help out when he could. However, also gone was his self-confidence. He seemed sad to those who really took time to get to know him. His laughter could be extremely bitter. It hadn't stopped hurting when people would stare, or when children shied away from him. But this was the Draco that the war had left in its wake.

He tried to stomp out the chill of the New York winter, as he entered his posh apartment building. "Good evening, Mr. Michaels," the night watchman called from the lobby desk.

"How are you, Paul?" He asked smiling at the older man.

"Can't complain. I haven't seen you since you came back from Mulan. How'd that go?"

Draco held back his laughter as he pictured the animated Asian girl with a dragon on her shoulder. Years ago, he would have ridiculed Paul for his mistake, but the man didn't deserve that kind of venom. "Milan was wonderful. Our show was quite the success."

"Glad to hear it."

"Thanks, Paul. Have a nice night."

"You too, Mr. Michaels. See you around."

Draco fumbled with the keys for a moment before finding the right one and opening the door to his apartment. This was his sanctuary these days. Here, he could feel whatever it was he was feeling and not have to pretend that he was happy. Stripping off the layers of clothing, he took a moment to study his reflection in the mirror hanging in the entryway.

He was tall and thin, though not disturbingly so. His white-blonde hair hung down to his shoulders in artful silken strands, and his piercing gray eyes were shot with shards of silver and blue. His features were delicate, but still decidedly male. When he smiled, his lips would draw at a pleasant and sensual turn. He would have been stunningly handsome, but for the scars. They weaved like lopsided spider webs across his face starting at his hairline and working their way down over his right cheek making his skin uneven and discolored over the raised and recessed lines. Lighter marks climbed the left side of his face cutting through his eyebrow and gently over his eyelid.

It had taken him a long time to not shudder when he looked at himself. He had always been extremely vain. That came from his mother, he guessed, for he could remember all the times Narcissa would stroke his pale cheek and tell him how beautiful he was. Never mind that even then he realized that he was nothing more than another mirror for her, it was one of the few moments of affection she had ever spared him. Now looking at himself, he held very little vanity. He had learned to be realistic about his looks. The word that he felt described him the best was "ugly." He didn't feel that he was "monstrous" or "revolting" or "disgusting," though some might disagree.

For the most part, people reacted to him with unease. They squirmed and looked away, rather than get caught staring. Kids, he found, to be more open about it. They looked at him with open and honest curiosity, sometimes even being bold enough to ask about it. He answered them with a smile and a quick lie about a car accident. Their parents were usually horrified by their children's questions, but he always reassured them that he was not offended. Still there were times when people's reactions made him want to crawl away and die. He was not deaf to the snide comments people made when they thought he was out of earshot, nor was he blind to the look of fear in the eyes of toddlers who likened him to the monster they saw in some scary dream.

Draco hung up his coat and put his gloves in the pocket. He noticed a blinking thirteen on his answering machine, and laughed. He guessed that eleven of them were from a frantic Chantay. His business partner had a knack for worrying about things. He joked that his real place in the company was paying the bills and calming Chantay.

In truth he did much more. When he had met Chantay Williamson in London two years ago, she gave him his purpose in life after Harry. Chantay was somewhat a mess when he met her. She had an amazing talent for fashion design, but she was not exactly adept at getting things together enough to start a business. When Draco got involved, they put together a concept for a couture boutique deciding to locate in New York. Within weeks, he found himself sketching designs of his own. To his amazement, they were every bit as good as Chantay's. Hermione was overjoyed and pitched in on the business end, handling the books. Now "Chantay Michaels" designs were everywhere. The Hollywood set had embraced them, and they had expanded enough to set up shops in twenty cities worldwide. Their debut in Milan had been a success. Chantey was the face of the company and he was the brains.

Draco had watched the show from the darkened wings with great pride. He could see approval written across even the toughest critic's face. The line was sophisticated, yet fun and colorful with a decidedly ethnic twist. He couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when it was all over though.

He picked up a bottle of pills and pressed the play button on the answering machine, only half listening to her list of problems. Swallowing the pills without water, he felt a pang of guilt. Paxil. Hermione had chastised him a million times for taking them, but they were one of the few things that helped him through the bad times. She had managed to deal with losing Ron without medication, and maybe that made her stronger than he was, but he wasn't about to stop taking them and go back to the worst of it.

Draco woke up the next morning with a headache. He couldn't recall his dreams, but he didn't really care to. Neither dreams nor nightmares did anything positive in his life. He had learned that to really be fulfilled you had to work hard and live in the real world. Instead of eating, he merely sipped coffee, before bundling up and heading out the door.

He still hadn't managed to fall in love with New York. Too many people, too much chaos. He missed the wizarding world. Sometimes, he longed to take a leisurely stroll down Diagon Alley. The magic that was still a part of him ached to get out. The wand tucked away in some box called to him.

Barely two steps in the studio door, he was nearly bowled over by a caramel skinned goddess. "Who is he? And what is he sorry for?"

Draco laughed. "What are you talking about? Would you at least let me get through the bloody door!"

Chantay stepped back. She was a tall, very beautiful woman. More than once people had commented on a marked resemblance to Tyra Banks. She looked at him through her thick lashes. "I want details now."

"I swear I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"Well, I'm guessing he does," she said pointing to a vase full of yellow roses.

Holding his breath slightly, Draco strode up to them and touched the petals lightly, breathing in the fragrant aroma. There was no card. "When did they come?"

She shrugged. "Just a few minutes before you got here. Do you know who sent them?"

He shook his head still in awe. "No. But why did you ask what he had to be sorry for?"

The look she gave him was priceless. "Because yellow roses mean you're sorry, duh. I thought you knew this kind of thing."  
"I'm a gay fashion designer but I'm not a damn florist."

"You're not very good at listening to your messages either, prat," a voice chimed in. Hermione was standing just behind them. "Who sent the flowers? And why's he sorry?"

Draco sighed. "I just told Chantay—I don't know."

"They're beautiful," Hermione said whistfully.

"Take them," he offered.

"Oh, no, someone wants you to have them. If you really want to give me something, you can give me a date on you're next show," she told him with a laugh.

"Not yet," he replied. He'd yet to take his eyes of the delicate roses. Who would send him roses?

He didn't have much time to ponder it. By ten, he and Chantay were seated side by side with a pile of headshots and resumes in front of them. They had yet to choose models for the upcoming New York show. No big names this time, they were going for a slightly independent feel—which fit well with the designers. Tossing a file down, Draco rubbed his temples. "Who's first? Men or women?"

"Men," she replied with a grin. Chantay had had more than one fling with male models. Draco, on the other hand, had seen the look of disgust on more than one of the beautiful men's faces and didn't even try.

The first three were not at all what Chantay Michaels needed. Draco sighed as he picked up a black and white headshot. The man was dark haired with and bright smile and engaging eyes. Maybe this one held some promise. When the young man strolled in, Draco held his breath a bit. His eyes were green, not "Harry" green, but green enough to bring up the memory. Beside him, Chantay noticed his discomfort and eyed him suspiciously. He jolted himself enough to make it through the rest of the interviews.

On the cab ride home, he was still lost in thought. Hermione cleared her throat beside him. "Sorry, Mione," he said sheepishly.

"Thinking about Harry?" she asked softly.

"Yes. Today has me in one of those moods I'm afraid," he admitted.

"Want to come to my place and chat over some wine?"

He smiled gratefully. "That would be perfect."

The cab stopped in front of their apartment building and they chatted in the elevator about prospective models. He said goodbye to Hermione when she got off and hit the button up to his own floor. The two had given being roommates a valiant effort before admitting that while they loved each other dearly, they simply could not live together. They drove each other mad. It was best that they live close, but in separate quarters.

Draco tossed off his coat once more and sighed.


	5. A Moment Ago II

A Moment Ago II

Hermione flopped down on her couch haphazardly. Today had been rather stressful and she longed to fill her tub and soak, but she had told Draco that they'd chat.

**THWACK!** The sound had such force that Hermione let out a small shriek. Her heart still hadn't recovered by the time that she got up to check out the sound. On her balcony, a small owl stumbled sideways, quite muddled by the force of slamming into the glass door. "Poor thing," she said gently as she picked up the creature.

The collar round its neck said "Cow" and she couldn't help but giggle as she remembered little "Pig." The Weasley family seemed to have awful luck with owls. Ron used to complain every time he got mail at Hogwarts. Cow managed to right himself after a few moments and Hermione removed the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_How are you? We've all been missing you terribly. You and Draco must come to visit more often. It was such a nice time on Christmas Eve. I do miss having another woman in the house. Oh dear, I don't mean to complain. I hope that you are having the time of your life in New York. Please come and visit soon._

_Love, _

_Mum _

Molly Weasley sent letters like this on a weekly basis. Hermione didn't feel she had a place at the Burrow anymore, but she went because she loved Mum and Dad so much. They had adopted her the day she and Ron started dating. It was assumed that she would be the one to bear the next generation of Weasleys. She loved them so much, but it hurt to think that she was there when Ron, Ginny, and Charlie weren't. Molly had finally come out of her depression, but she was so changed. The worst part was that, despite the knowledge that she wasn't, she felt that she was to blame.

She heard Draco come in. They didn't feel the need to knock anymore and both had keys to the other's room. He had already changed into pajama bottoms and a loose white t-shirt . Formality had gone out the door years ago.

"Malfoy, don't you own any clothes?" she teased using her best snob voice. It had taken a while to get used to calling him Draco Michaels rather than Draco Malfoy.

Summoning up the Malfoy in him, he gave her and arrogant stare. "I only dress to the degree of my company, Granger."

Hermione made some hot chocolate in the kitchen while Draco settled himself on the couch. If someone had told her at Hogwarts that she'd come to call Draco her best friend, she'd have probably told them to go to the infirmary and have their head examined. Now, she couldn't imagine life without him. They'd supported each other through the bad times. She couldn't count the times she had cried on his shoulder while he comforted her, and vice versa.

Draco took the cup she offered and gave her and evil grin. "I was promised wine."  
"Drink your chocolate, brat!" She settled beside him and gave him a look of friendship.

He sighed heavily. "Who would send me flowers? The only man I've ever really been close to is dead and I don't think someone fell in love with my face. I don't want to be cynical, but I keep thinking what if it's some sort of joke, Mione?"

Staring into the marshmallow topped mug, she winced. She had actually thought the same thing. "Then someone has a very sad sense of humor and wasted money. But I don't think that's what it is. Maybe someone is entranced with those gorgeous eyes of yours?" She made her voice as low and sultry as she could. "You're such a mysterious man, Draco Michaels. Maybe someone is enthralled by it."

He almost spit chocolate out of his mouth. "You've watched Phantom too many times, Mione."

"Maybe, but I have one thing to say to that…." She smiled as his eyebrows shot up questioningly. "The Notebook."

"That's not even fair! That was an excellent movie. I can't believe you'd make fun of me for that." He was laughing, but then stopped abruptly. His eyes were dark. "I kept wishing that would be us…that he'd just pop back into my life, but he won't."

Hermione's hands trembled. She knew that feeling all to well, but she had seen Ron's broken body for herself. "Harry's gone. He's not coming back."

"I know that, but I just wish…..I wish he were alive, but what then? What would he think of me now? Would he have rejected me because of my looks? I don't know if I could survive if he did."

"Draco, Harry would see you the same way he did before and love you for it. Maybe he'd even love you more for who you are now. You've grown into a man that we all love," she told him gently touching his cheek.

He cleared his throat and blinked away the darkness in his eyes. Smiling once more, he looked at the small bird flapping it's wings on the end table. "How's Molly?"

"Good, she wants us to visit."

"You mean she wants YOU to visit," he corrected.

"Don't say that you know she loves you."

He shook his head. "I'm a friend of the family, you're her daughter in law. There's a difference, Mione. Why don't you go tomorrow?"

She knew Draco was right, but she just couldn't. "I have a lot to do tomorrow."

"No, you don't, liar. Go see Molly and Arthur. The company won't fall apart if you're gone for a day." He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Besides, without you around I can play my music as loud as I want."

"Fine! But next time, you're coming with me," she pouted. She wondered if maybe Draco felt the same about visiting the Weasleys, but she wouldn't ask.


	6. A Moment Ago III

A Moment Ago III

Severus Snape glared at the trembling form in front of him. Absolute terror shone in the Slytherin girl's large blue eyes. She looked exactly the way a china doll would if it were painted in horror. "P…p..professor Snape, I…I…"

"Get on with it, Miss Gilmore. I haven't got time for your nonsense today." That sounded harsh even to his own ears, when in fact he had been trying to be somewhat soft. The girl was one of the brightest of the bunch, but not nearly as annoying as Granger had been.

"I…I'msupposedtotellyouthatHeadmistressHoochwantstoseeyou," she gushed. By the time she got it all out, she was hyperventilating and he was exasperated.

"Breathe, Miss Gilmore. If you don't repeat that sans the stuttering and with appropriate pauses, you will serve a week's worth of detention," he warned.

Her eyes, amazingly, got even bigger, but she managed a nod. "I'm supposed to tell you that Headmistress Hooch wants to see you."

Without a word, he turned on his heal and headed to her office. Things had changed at Hogwarts without Dumbledore. Despite Rolanda's best efforts, a good bit of the charm was gone out the place. Even he had to grudgingly admit that the old fool had brought something to the school. So much was gone from these walls, but a chapter of life had closed. Snape wasn't fool enough to pine for the past.

He took a moment to glance out of the windows over the court yard. The sun was out despite the wintry chill in the air. Standing just below him, was a man he did not recognize. The intruder was tall and sturdy built with sandy blonde hair. He stood with his face turned to the sky, but Severus could not make out his features from this distance. The was a confidence about him, not arrogance. Severus snorted. Whoever he was, it didn't matter. Returning to his task, he felt only the slightest desire to look back.

Rolanda was sitting at her desk, thoughtfully reading a piece of parchment in front of her. "Severus, glad to see Alana finally had the courage to face you. Not a very bold girl, that one."

"I've seen jellyfish with stiffer spines," he agreed. "What was it you wanted to see me about?"

"Professor Binns' has decided that he wishes to find other areas of the school to haunt. I have a potential candidate for the position already to take over, but I'm not so sure about him….I don't doubt his intelligence, but… I'm not sure he can handle a class."

He nodded. As deputy headmaster, his opinion held weight in her decision. "Is he, by chance, here already?"

"Yes, he is. Have you spoken to him?"

"No, but I noticed a man in the courtyard. Why don't you bring him in?" he suggested. This was not how he wanted to spend his Saturday, but duty called.

A house elf brought tea and refreshments, and he busied himself looking around the room. Severus picked up a picture of a MUCH younger Rolanda and Minerva with their arms locked around each other's waists. It had obviously been taken not long after the two met, but he couldn't place their ages. He set it aside as he heard the door open.

Shock registered across his face as he watched the man he had seen in the courtyard being led to a chair by a prefect. In his free hand, he held a white cane. Zeroing in on the man's face, he was about twenty-five or so with shaggy hair. He wasn't exceedingly handsome, but he was extremely familiar.

Rolanda, having already known, gave him a smile, and said in a welcoming tone, "Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mr. Longbottom."

A puff of air could have knocked Severus on his arse. Neville fucking Longbottom! The blind man smiled toward Madame Hooch with genuine good nature. "It's wonderful to be back."

Unphased, she continued, "You remember, Severus Snape of course?"

Humor twitched at the corner's of Neville's lips. "How could I forget such an experience as potions class?"

Gathering his wits, Severus snorted. "And how could I forget the million times you damn near got yourself killed or almost blew up the bloody classroom?"

Neville gave a deep throaty laugh. "Well, I have my reasons for that."

"I'd be damned surprised if there was any rhyme or reason for your incompetence," the potions master quipped. "I hope you've learned something, if you're going to be teaching here."

"His resume is quite good," Rolanda interjected, handing the file to Severus.

He gave her a look that said 'his resume wasn't your issue to begin with.' Neville stiffened as the silence dragged on. "Well, then why don't we get it out in the open—I'm blind. But that doesn't make me stupid or negligent. I'm quite capable of handling a classroom."

"Hogwarts has some students who can be a bit trying, Mr. Longbottom," she explained. "I dare say you remember the Weasley twins? While we haven't anyone that notorious at the moment, they will test you. How do you expect to deal it?"

"I believe that students deserve my respect just as much as I deserve theirs. A good man once showed me that if you believe in your students and let them know that, then you had a basis with them that put you in a position where most students won't test you. However, when a student does see the need to push things immediate and appropriate actions should be taken. You have to face your problems as they come. One mustn't let things build," he added.

Severus could guess who Neville meant. Remus had undoubtedly been the best teacher the school had had in a very long time, but Neville Longbottom wasn't Remus Lupin…not by a long shot. "Yes," he said shakily, "but how do you intend to get their respect when they see you as weak?"

"By proving that I'm not weak, through my actions and my demeanor. Students don't have to be scared to death of you to make you an authority figure. They will respect boundaries put in place by someone who treats them like intelligent beings."

The older woman seemed pleased with his answer. She nodded contentedly. "Very well, you can be a disciplinarian, but how will your blindness effect the rest of your activities here?"

"There will be a few accommodations that need to be made. I will ask that the furniture in my classroom go unmoved, because I move in familiar settings by memory. I will also need a day or two to get to know Hogwarts and its layout. By counting steps and learning landmarks, navigation won't be too much of an issue" he paused and took a sip of tea. "However, the course load will not be easier than that of any sighted teacher. They will be tested and will write essays, just as they would for any other class."

Severus gave Rolanda a pensive glance. She seemed completely reassured by Neville, and though he would deny it, he wasn't far behind her in that respect. "How do you expect to read those essays?"

"A translation charm will turn the writing to Braille for me. I am capable of doing most everything anyone else can, I just do things a bit differently."

"I think that's enough, Neville," Rolanda said happily. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Longbottom."

His smile was stunning. "Thank you, Madame Hooch. Professor Snape," he added with a nod in Severus' direction.

"Would you like a guide to find your way out?" Snape asked with a dismissing

tone.

"No, I remember the way." With that, he unfurled his cane and strode confidently out of the room.

Later that evening, Severus found himself irritably going over the homework papers he had collected from the first years. This bunch was thick enough to make him miss the days of Potter. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't deny the fact that he missed those days to a small extent. Those days had never left him waiting for entertainment. Unbidden, a face came to the front of his thoughts.

Neville Longbottom. Who would have guessed? He certainly wasn't the boy he remembered. There was very little of the pudginess that he had been so famous for. Though he was not thin, most of his solid frame was muscle. His once round face had now gained the hollows and hardness of a man's face rather than a boy's. Neither overly handsome, nor unattractive, he was plain but he exuded a sort of pleasant personality that made him appealing. Not only his looks had changed. Never had he seen Neville look confident or certain, until now. He was man very aware of himself, faults and strengths alike. Neville the man was much more intriguing than Neville the boy had ever been, and Snape loathed the fact that he noticed.


	7. Coincidences

Coincidences

Draco stared at the roses. They were slowly driving him insane. Who? The question had circled round in his head all night and now into the morning. There weren't any real potential suspects. Since he'd been scarred, he hadn't had one single encounter. Not that he blamed them, but men seemed to be turned off by his face.

He thought of all of the beautiful men. Perfect faces and forms. They all stared at him with a certain disgust in their eyes, and a fake acceptance on their faces. He always got the feeling that if he wasn't the man they were trying to impress, he would have been beneath their notice or worse the subject to their ridicule. If one of them sent the flowers, he was bound to want something from Draco. Anger coursed through him. In that second, he hated them all—the whole fucking industry. It had always struck him as ironic that he had chosen a business that based itself on vanity, and in the end, he knew he could not blame them. It bothered him most because he wanted more than anything to let them know that—once, he would have been their equal, if not better. He had been just as beautiful as they were.

Picking up the phone, he dialed Chantay's number. "Hello?" a groggy voice answered on the other end.

"Good morning, sunshine," he said with forced cheeriness. The last thing he needed was Chantay spending the day trying to get him to open up.

"Draco, it's 6:30 in the morning, can't it wait until we're in the office?" He heard a groan and pictured Chantay sprawled out in bed in boxers and a t-shirt.

"I'm not coming in today."

"WHAT? Are you okay? I'm coming just give me ten minutes!" she told him frantically. He could hear the sound of the bedclothes hitting the floor.

"I'm fine, Chantay. Honestly, I just would like to take a day and relax," he lied.

"Relax? You?"

As he rubbed his temples, it became harder and harder to keep his annoyance from leaking through. "Everyone needs a day here and there, Chantay."

"Fine! If you're not going to tell me, I'm going back to bed."

"Goodnight," he said just as he heard a click.

Draco laid on the couch for a moment trying to quell the damning voices in his head. There was no use. He knew that he needed the noise of New York to drown out the demons. Throwing on a black overcoat and heading out the door, he didn't take the time to pull back his hair or change into nicer clothes. Chantay would be horrified, and that's one of the reasons he didn't want her around today. He didn't have the energy to keep up any facades. On his way out the door, he gave a congenial nod to the door man and turned down the offered cab. He wanted to wander the city on his own. The things he saw and heard always gave him something to think about. It seemed that there was always some kind of distraction.

After only half an hour of roaming the sidewalks, Draco ducked inside a familiar little coffee shop. He'd been coming here for sometime now, and everyone was used to his pensive moods. The young man behind the counter smiled at him. Alex was eighteen or nineteen with perfectly groomed, honey curls and large brown eyes. On his better visits, Draco and Alex would talk about Alex's boyfriend or his homophobic parents, but today Draco just wasn't in the right frame of mind. "How's it going?" Alex asked setting aside a copy of _The Hitchhikers Guide To the Galaxy_.

"Not bad. I'm in the mood for something different today," he said shifting the topic. Coffee was impersonal.

"Hot or cold?"

"Hot. Something sweet." Draco ignored what Alex told him and simply paid for the drink, before rushing to HIS table in the back corner. He sipped the disgustingly chocolaty drink and watched the influx of New Yorkers at the counter.

People watching had become one of Draco's first hobbies after leaving the hospital. He had sat at the window of the flat he shared with Hermione for hours on end watching as people filed by. They were always interesting to him. So much shown through in their clothes, and faces. The way they moved spoke volumes. Customers came and went in a matter of minutes. Some of them were far too busy or too disconnected to notice anything about their surroundings. Others studied the place with a kind of nervous glance. Draco pitied on young girl who so pathetically flaunted herself for Alex. The boy sent a helpless gaze at Draco so needy that he found he couldn't ignore it.

"A friend of yours, Alex?" she asked as Draco strode up beside her.

"Um…yeah, Tamora I'd like you to meet Draco Michaels, he's one of our best customers. Draco, this is Tamora Grabe, I used to work in her dad's floral shop."

The girl studied his scars for only the briefest second before extending her hand with a warm smile. "Oh, I know who you are!"

Draco almost laughed as he glanced down at the girl's attire. He highly doubted she followed fashion. "You've heard of our company? I'm flattered."

"Your company? No, I can't say I have, but I know you got flowers yesterday."

Draco gasped. "The flowers came from your fathers business?"

"Yep, yellow roses if I remember right. Your boyfriend must really have done something to be sorry for. But you two seem kind of a mismatch to me. I mean you're Rico Suave and he's all blue collar. Opposites attract, so they say. Sooo, did you forgive him?"

All he could do was stare at the excitable girl for a moment. By the time, Draco digested all of that and managed to shut his gaping mouth, she was impatiently waiting for details. "Actually, I wasn't sure who sent them. Would you happen to know who he is? I wouldn't want to thank the wrong person," the lie rolled off his lips easily—he could probably thank his lineage for that.

"I don't remember his name, but I do remember what he looked like," she said helpfully, but then a smile that Salazar Slytherine himself would have delighted in crossed her face. "Hmm, you know my dad wouldn't appreciate me giving out customer information."

Pasting on a fake smile. "Oh, why don't you and I chat for a while and you can decide if I'm worthy of that trust? Alex," he said handing the boy his half finished mug. "Pour that out for me and make me a soy latte with hazelnut. I'll buy whatever Tamora would like, too."

Alex's face was a cross between confusion and utter disbelief that Draco would play into such an obvious ploy. "Uh, sure thing, man."

Once settled back into Draco's table and away from prying ears, Draco assessed his opponent. She was younger than Alex—sixteen or so—and slightly plump with long reddish hair and unremarkable blue eyes. Not pretty in the least, but not what you would call ugly. Her outfit was a disaster, and plastic rimmed cat-glasses sat on her face. "So, you've known Alex for a long time?" he asked testing the waters.

She took a sip of her chai and nodded. "He was two years ahead of me in school. I'm kind of skipping today."

"You know, if you want me to help you out with Alex, it isn't possible, because he's…."

"Gay?" She laughed. "I know. I just like to torture him because he's so funny when he squirms. He should have told me a long time ago—I mean what if I'd really had feelings for him?"

She was intelligent, he'd give her that. He sighed. "So what exactly do you want?"

"I want what every woman wants…details. I tell you what Mr. Romance looks like and if you know him, you tell me why he's so sorry." She looked honest enough about her interest. "Look, I see a lot of people in and out of the shop all the time. Everybody's got a reason for sending the flowers that they do, but his seemed deeper. When he came in, he asked me what type of flower to send when your really sorry for something. I don't know why, but he looked like he really means it."

His mouth was dry. "Fine, I'll give you what details I can."

Tamora nodded. "He had the shaggy black hair, and glasses over really green eyes. Too thin for as a tall as he was, almost kind of sickly looking. And there was a scar on his forehead that looked kind of funny kind of like a…."

"Lightining bolt," he finished. His head swam. My God, Harry. Was it possible? How could he be alive? Why hadn't he come to him?

"Are you okay?"

"Tamora, please. You have to find me a name," he begged. His throat was so tight he could barely get the words to pass through. "I need to know."

She seemed taken aback by his plea. "We'd have to go the shop, but I'm pretty sure he is in our database."

Instantly, Draco had his coat on and was waiting at the door for her. Giving him a sad glance, she said quietly. "Something tells me this isn't going to be a happy story."

Time had never moved as fast as it did that day. So many thoughts and theories buzzed through his mind at an uncontrollable pace. Harry was alive. Harry had sent him roses. Didn't he care about him anymore? But he had sent him roses to say that he was sorry, didn't that prove that he at least felt something? Why was Harry so sorry? For leaving?

As the door bell rang at Grabe's Floral Shop, an older man looked up at them. "Tammy, damn it! This is the fifth time this month. You'll be lucky if you graduate at all, let alone go to college. Why can't you get your ass in school?"

"Dad! Not now, please. I've got something I really need to take care of. I need the computer," she told him as she swept by him.

Draco was a half step behind, and didn't escape the man's notice. "What the hell have you gotten my daughter into?"

"Please, sir, I need to know who sent me flowers. You have no idea how important this is."

The man nodded. "But let me tell you somethin'—you find out that he doesn't want to be found, don't you dare tell him you got his information from us."

"I swear I won't say a word."

In the office, Tamora pounded away at the keys. Pulling out a pen and paper, she read off of the screen. "Hmmmm…here we go. James Black."

His heart was doing sommersaults as she held up the paper. "I want a full rundown of everything by Friday."

"Thank you." He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. Before sprinting to the door. He was going to find Harry and he was going to get answers


	8. Coincidences II

Coincidences II

Hermione let the hot water run down her body for a long while before she began to wash her hair. She needed the water to somehow fortify her for the day ahead. In truth, there wasn't anything she could think of that would give her the ability to make it through the day without at least one breakdown. It was inevitable, either before or after a visit with the Weasleys, she would fall to pieces. Never, she promised herself long ago, would she ever cry in front of Molly or Arthur. They had somehow managed to move beyond their losses with a sort of dignified sorrow that she hadn't been able to manage yet.

She took her time getting ready, blow drying and flat ironing her hair until it lay in smooth layers around her face. Chantay had taken her to a hair stylist in Soho who now claimed Hermione's hair as "his," and he had shown her how to control the mass of frizz. Ironically, it was just what she needed. It cemented the reality that she was living a very different life now. The chaotic halo of brown hair that Ron loved so much was now tamed and highlighted with blonde. She wasn't the Hermione that had went through seven years of Hogwarts. She wasn't the Hermione who fought Voldemort. And she most certainly wasn't the Hermione who had carried Ron's child.

Tears flooded her eyes. Everyone had been so happy when she told them, even if they did disapprove of her being pregnant while still in school and unmarried. They decided to keep it a secret, because of how dangerous the times had become. Only the family knew. Molly had done wonders with moving up the wedding arrangements so they could have the ceremony before Hermione started to show. Ron was ecstatic. Every night, he would place his hand on her still flat stomach and pronounce that she was getting bigger. When she did gain weight, she hid it beneath her robes and her role in the order became less and less prominent. In fact if it weren't for cruel fate, she and Ron would never have been at the battle in the first place.

The battle. She still had nightmares about it. That morning had been quite peaceful. She had woken up in Ron's arms and they had apparated to Hogsmeade to meet Ginny for breakfast. Ginny Weasley was not only her sister in law, but also her best friend. She was so young and full of life. Many people had speculated that she had captured the heart of Harry Potter, and that included Voldemort. He sent Death Eaters to capture Ginny and lure out Harry. The last time she had seen either Ron or Ginny, Lucius had Ginny in his grasp and Ron was chasing after. She remember screaming as she saw him fall with blood streaming out of his mouth and eyes. She heard his terrible cries of agony. The last thing she remembered before being hit by a curse and blacking out was Ginny's neck snap in the hands of the mad man.

She woke up in St. Mungo's four days later, after the death of Voldemort. The Healers told her that she had lost her baby and that it was unlikely that she would ever bear children. The next days and weeks had been torture. Every bit of the man she loved had been taken from her on one horrible day.

Brushing away the tears, Hermione began to apply some makeup to hide the redness of her face. The last thing she wanted was for Molly to realize how much it hurt Hermione to see her. Molly was the only mother she had now, and she loved her so much.

Hermione hadn't wanted an extravagant apartment. She, unlike Draco, didn't need that sort of thing, but she had demanded that there be a fire place and that it was hooked up to the floo network. Stepping in, she disappeared with a pop and reappeared in the Burrow.

"Oh, Hermione dear! You've made it!" The older woman swept her in a crushing hug.

"I thought I'd stop by and see how you were all doing. Did I come at a bad time?" she asked stepping from the fireplace.

Molly set her hands on her generous hips. "Hermione Weasley! Don't you ever think such a thing, child. You are welcome here at any hour of any day for as long as you like." She took Hermione's hand. "I'm just so happy. Two visits in one day."

"Two?"

"Oh, yes. Bill is here," Molly beamed. After the war, Bill had decided to stay at Gringotts to be closer to his family. Although, Hermione hadn't seen him in almost two years. She followed the older woman into the living room where Bill stood examining a photo of the whole family in Egypt.

"Hermione! It's been ages," he said as he set the picture aside. He gave her a brief hug. "New York seems to agree with you."

"It does. And how has Gringotts been to you?" she asked settling down on the couch beside Molly.

"The same as always. The place is nothing if not predictable." He smiled at her with a wry sort of twitch to his lips. "It would bore you terribly."

"Would it? These days boring is good." The floor hadn't changed since her last visit, she would know that more than anyone from the amount of time she spent staring at it when she was uneasy.

"I guess we've all had enough adventure," Bill admitted.

"Well, you two catch up and I'll have something for us to eat in just a bit. Oh, I do hope you'll both stay long enough to see Arthur!" Molly said as she happily left the room.

Hermione sighed. She wasn't sure if Bill's presence was making things better or worse. There was a time when she had felt as though she belonged with the Weasley siblings, but that time had passed. Now, she had to settle for desperately trying to keep polite conversation going. "Do you see much of the twins?" she asked

"They're very busy these days. Between the joke shop and their significant others, they don't get around much. I think George will ask Angelina to marry him soon. Fred, on the other hand, is as happy as can be keeping a casual relationship going with Dean. Who would have guessed those two would end up on opposite sides of anything?" He laughed. The sound was deep and pleasant, and made Hermione smile.

"What about you and Fleur?"

He winced. "You really are out of the loop. We split almost a year ago."

Feeling guilty, she met his blue-eyed gaze. "I'm sorry. Your mother never mentioned it. I just assumed that you were still seeing each other."

"It's alright. Mum never talked about it because she never liked Fleur that much. She never took her in the way she did with you, and it took me years to finally figure out why. I'm not sorry I was with her, but I'm not sorry I'm not with her anymore." He shrugged. "Besides, it gives me a chance to play the field a bit. I needed to find out if I could still get the girl."

Hermione giggled. "And how has that gone for you?"

The look he gave her was indecipherable. "I'm still working on it."

Over the next few hours, Hermione laughed like she hadn't laughed in years. Bill made her feel like she was home again. Molly and Arthur spent the afternoon exchanging knowing looks. In truth, Hermione wasn't sure what Bill was up to, but it didn't matter at the moment. Her face hurt from smiling so much. It was late in the evening when Hermione finally decided to go home.

Bill walked her to the door. "It was good to see you again. I'm sorry I kept missing you over the holidays. Things just have been hectic for me."

"It was good to see you, too." For some reason, Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of his handsome face.

"I don't want to wait another two years to see you," he confessed.

"Neither do I." It was almost as if Hermione was completely incapable of thinking for herself.

"Can I take you out to dinner some time this week?"  
Her heart skipped a beat. This was Ron's older brother asking her out. This was real, but was it even decent? "I don't know. It's strange thinking of Ron."

"I know, but I still have feelings for you, Hermione. I've waited a long time debating about it myself, but I still come to the same conclusion every time. I'm not Ron, and I'll never replace him, but I would like a chance to make you happy."

"Bill, I…I.." Hermione shook away the feeling of guilt. "How does Friday suit you?"

AN Hey all thanks for reading! A special thanks to everyone who's reviewed.

Loveandpeace—BIG kisses sweetie! I appreciate your reviews. And I loved your Kenshin story! Hey all check this girl's stories out!

Tuesday Night—thanks for reading, and yep it's on another site too. When things get a little more heated the unedited version will be on that site rather than on here, but I will put a clean version on this site.

DMWeasley—Thanks. Hopefully I'm not making you wait too long ;)

Nickel Nerd—I love them too, but no this story isn't named for that song. But you did give me the idea to do a song fic to on of the other songs on that album.

Chaney—I get activist-y too. Most of the what the characters go through in this story is based on things that have happened to me and my friends. Draco and Harry are based off of friends of ours who were badly injured in a car accident. And Neville is based on someone very close to be me. So I've seen the looks that my friend gets and heard some of the nasty stuff people say just because he doesn't look normal. Luvs you for the review!

Anika N—thanks for the support!

Nitwittie—well, I'm odd so there you have it! LOL Thanks

Fudgebaby—Wait no more love!


	9. Coincidences III

Coincidences III

History was repeating itself. Alana Gilmore quivered like a leaf desperately trying to hold on in the wind. Why Rolanda couldn't find someone else to carry messages, Severus couldn't fathom. "You have exactly five seconds to speak, Miss Gilmore."

Stiffly, she lifted a note. "Headmistress Hooch told me to give this to you."

Impatiently, he snatched the paper and began to read.

Severus,

Please help Professor Longbottom get to know the school. I had intended to do it myself, but something came up

Rolanda

Crumpling the note in his hand, he sent a look in Alana's direction. The girl was so petrified that it almost made him feel guilty. "Five points to Slytherin." He heard her audible breath of relief as he turned and strode down the hall towards Neville's room. He somehow doubted that Rolanda had anything at all to do.

He knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal Neville dressed in muggle clothing. The jeans and tight blue t-shirt did more for his muscular form that robes ever could. It took Severus nearly a full minute to find his voice. "It seems Professor Hooch is occupied this afternoon and I will be acting as your guide," he said flatly expecting Neville to complain.

Instead, he smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate you taking time out of your day."

"Never mind that. The sooner you get to know the halls, the sooner I can go back to my potions."

"Well then, I'll get my cane and we can get started," he said still smiling.

Cane in hand, Neville walked toward the door and Snape instinctively grabbed his arm to pull him along. "No, like this," Neville corrected taking hold of Severus' arm. "I follow just a half step behind. And I do hope you can keep hold back your chatter. I have a lot of counting to do."

Severus snorted. "If I were searching for conversation, I can think of dozens of other people I would seek out before you."

The day went quickly. For the most part, they were silent. Severus gave descriptions and directions when asked, but neither man made an attempt to keep polite conversation. Students in the halls stared curiously after the pair. Word had traveled fast that there would be a blind man teaching Magic History. Blindness was rare in the magic world and he doubted most students had ever seen a blind person before. They gaped at the pair, and Severus ached to say something to the little demons. He held his tongue though, not wanting to disrupt Neville's navigations.

By lunch, he was relatively competent at finding his way. He had released Severus' arm and was tapping the cane before him. Neville was well adjusted, Severus had to admit. It even earned him his respect in a small measure. Living in a world you couldn't see had to be hell, but Neville walked through it with an almost ease. He wondered how Neville had gone blind. He certainly had been able to see at the end of the war. In fact, Snape couldn't recall Neville even receiving a major injury. He'd be damned if he'd ask. It wasn't his habit to care about other's lives.

In the Great Hall, the students were once again staring as Neville and Severus sat down to eat. On Neville's left sat the new muggle studies professor, Maeven Quinn. Maeven was every straight boy at Hogwarts wet dream brought to life. Unsurprisingly, the number of students taking the subject had tripled since her arrival a year ago. She smiled widely at both men, but Neville definitely had her full attention. "So you made it back from your grand exploration last night, and we didn't have to send a search party after all.

"How kind of you, Maevan. I'm surprised you didn't sneak into my room after I left and switch all the tags on my clothes," he said with a laugh.

"I see you two have met," Snape said dryly. The slightest pang of jealousy grew in him at being ignored by the pair.

"I had the misfortune of running into Professor Quinn—quite literally—when I was first leaving the magic world," the younger man explained.

"Ha, and I still owe you for that bruise!" Maeven quipped.

She leaned in close and whispered something in Neville's ear. God knows what she said. Severus snorted, and Neville looked grateful. "I appreciate it," he told the woman before slowly moving his hands to the plate before him. He kept his hands very low and found his glass. It took every once of his being not to watch Neville. Again, the boy—the man seemed practiced and natural. Severus couldn't imagine how Neville seemed to know exactly where everything was in front of him.

The meal went by disgustingly slow and Severus found the company less than desirable. He wondered if Neville knew that he had chosen the most beautiful woman at Hogwarts. Most of all, he wondered why he cared. Every time that deep laughter escaped Neville's lips, he found himself hating Maeven more. When lunch was over, Snape stalked out before either of them realized he had even stood. Professor Quinn could lead the git around.

"Hey, Severus!" He cringed and turned to face Maevan. By her side, Neville stood with a rather confuse look on his face.

"I thought you could escort him, since you are obviously such dear friends," he said letting his biting sarcasm show through.

The wench didn't bat an eye at his acerbic words, in fact she laughed. "Would love to really, but Rolanda said that she needed me for something or other. I'll see you later, loves!" She said with a wave and was off sashaying down the hall—drooling boys following the sway of her hips. Maevan turned back to him and he would have sworn she winked at him.

Snape completed his task with even less enthusiasm than he had begun it with. Neville seemed to be aware of the potions master's mood, and didn't try to force any sort of friendliness. By the time they reached his quarters, Neville had mastered the school's layout, and Alana Gilmore stood before him again. This time she held out a piece of parchment and took off at a run as soon as it was delivered.

"What was that about?" Neville asked.

"Hmph, 'that' was Alana Gilmore, fourth year Slytherin." Saying even that much rankled Severus' nerves.

"Still putting the fear of God into kids? Doesn't the joy of making children quake in your presence ever get old?"

Severus' darkening looks had no effect on the blind man. "Good evening, Longbottom."

With a swoosh of black robes, Snape stomped off to the Headmistress' office. The portrait of Dumbledore on the wall grinned at him. That annoying old man was never going to stop driving him out of his bloody tree. If possible, he was even more irate when he entered the room to find Rolanda seated behind her desk, and Maevan Quinn standing beside her. "What is this about?" he stormed.

Maevan laughed, and even Rolanda had a glimmer in those cat eyes of hers. "Just seeing how you and Neville are getting on?"

"You could have saved both of us the time and effort by staying out of it."

"Calm down, Severus." The gray haired woman wiped the cheer from her face. "I think you two could benefit from each other's influence."

"Benefit?" He shot her an incredulous look. "Personally, I don't even know why he's here at all."

"You approved of him yesterday," Hooch reminded him.

"That was yesterday and I have had time to form another opinion."

The headmistress sighed. "Very well." She turned to Quinn. "Maeven, you may go."

The insufferable witch cast him a smirking glance before she left the room. Snape scowled after her.

Madame Hooch picked up the picture from her desk and stared lovingly at it. "Do you know how long we were together?" Snape simply shook his head. He could see the sadness in her, could relate to it. "Fifty two years, Severus. I was only seventeen when I met, and she was already twenty five. She really was quite beautiful back then, and got even more so everyday in my eyes. I know you loved Remus."

"If this is what you are trying…."

"You are too young to be alone, Severus!" Her voice cracked. Never once had anyone seen her show this kind emotion, only Minerva. She leaned back in her seat. "Think about it before you dismiss the idea. I think I'll go rest."

When he was left alone, he looked once more at the photograph at the happy couple.


	10. In Your Eyes

In Your Eyes

Draco's stomach turned as he walked into the squalid apartment building. The stench of piss was so strong that he could barely keep down his breakfast. How had it come to this? Why did Harry choose this life over the wizarding world? Standing in what served as the lobby, he saw a drunk passed out on an old car seat serving as a couch and an older woman with tattoos smoking a cigarette in front of a TV. She glanced up at him briefly. "Whoever ya lookin for I ain't seem em."

"But you don't even know who I'm looking for or why," he said exasperated.

"Don't care none either cause I ain't seen em."

He pulled a fifty out of his pocket and held it up. "I'm looking for Harry…..I'm looking for James Black."

She snatched the bill and grinned at him bearing rotting teeth. "Jim boy! Well if he ain't in room 12 than he's at work. Either way, I ain't seen em."

His heart was beating out of control as he took the stairs with trembling steps. What would Harry think of him? Was this a bad idea? What if he took one look at Draco's scars and turned away? No, Harry had already seen him on the battlefield. He's hand felt numb as he raised it to knock.

"God damn it! Fucking hell, Beth! I told you I'd bloody well pay you when I get my check now go fuck off!" A voice raged from behind. Unable to speak, Draco simply knocked again. "Stupid fucking bitch!"

The door flew open and for the first time in three years Draco Malfoy was staring at the man he loved. Everything about him was different except for the scar and the glasses. His hair was greasy and unwashed, his eyes were no longer vibrant and lively, his skin was deathly pale. but the most disturbing thing about him was his weight. He was so thin that his face now bore deep hollows. An almost skeletal body was covered with a dingy sweatshirt and jeans, and his right hand was buried in the front pocket.

Pain flashed in those green eyes, but not surprise as he stared back at Draco. It seemed that he had already seen the scars. It took him a moment to speak, but when he did his voice was weak. "Draco, what are you doing here?"

Emotion choked him, but Draco did manage to find his voice. "I came to thank you for the roses. May I come in?"

Harry nodded and stepped aside letting Draco into the tiny room. The bathroom in Draco's apartment was twice the size of Harry's room. The walls bore the remnants of cracking paint, and the floor was covered in dirty clothes. The only furniture in the room was a bed and a chair with TV sitting on it. Harry followed Draco's gaze. "It's not much, but it's home. Maybe you should leave."

"Harry, please just tell me why? Why didn't you let me know that you were alive? Why did you leave me?" he begged.

Harry turned away and said nothing for a long moment. "Did you think I could come back after it all, Draco? That I could pretend that it wasn't my fault? When I woke up after killing him, I knew in my heart that there was no way I could look at you. I was responsible for everything. Ron, Ginny, Sirius, Albus, Remus, Charlie, Tonks, Seamus, and Professor McGonallgal are all dead because of me. I have their blood on my hands and no matter what I do I can't get rid of it. And you….I'm the reason you have those scars. I should never have sent those roses. I knew it was stupid when I did it, and I'm sorry."

"No, Harry it wasn't your fault at all. Lucius did this to me. Voldemort was a very evil man and nothing that he or Lucius did was your fault. You saved so many lives by defeating him. No one blames you," Draco told Harry. He wanted to look into his eyes and make sure that he believed him. Grasping Harry's right arm, he pulled him closer to him.

But Draco noticed something horrible when his right arm slid out of the pocket. Harry's arm was limp and the skin covering it was a puckered mass of scar tissue. "He took my wand," Harry said simply.

Still holding his crippled arm, Draco's gray eyes met emerald green once more. "My God, Harry, you've suffered so much."

"I don't need your damned pity, Malfoy!" he raged as he slid the damaged limb away. "Why did you come here? Damn, you why couldn't you just have left me alone?"

"Because I love you, Harry. Living without you has been hell, but looking at you now makes me wonder if I even know what that means. Please Harry, just come with me and we can work things out."

"Do you think that will make anything better? You're a bloody moron if you do. You don't know anything about me anymore, Draco. Harry Potter is dead! He died and I'm just what's left. I sent you those roses because it was my way of telling you goodbye. The part of me that loved you is gone, and no matter what happens it's going to stay that way." He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. "You should go. This neighborhood isn't safe after dark."

"Harry.." Draco pleaded.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT! Just go! Get out of here." Harry was trembling as he slumped against the wall.

"Fine, I'll go," Draco agreed summoning the Malfoy stubbornness. His back was ramrod straight and he stared directly in Harry's eyes. "But I'll be back. James Black or Harry Potter, I love you and I'm not giving up on you. That's a promise, love, and I always keep to my word."

He surprised himself by keeping his composure the whole way back to his apartment where he dissolved into a shuddering mass on floor.


	11. In Your Eyes II

In Your Eyes II

Hermione's heart was still fluttering when she rode the elevator to her floor. Once inside, she let herself topple over onto the bed and shut her eyes. She could still see that beautiful blue gaze. Bill. He had made her feel real again, like she could live. Somehow, he had taken away the awkwardness and replaced it with the comfort of home. A memory came to her, and for the first time it was bittersweet rather than painful.

She was lying with her head in Ron's lap watching the stars above them. Their honeymoon had been postponed and they had moved in with Ron's parents for the moment. The only peace they found on some days was when they crept out to the yard to watch the night sky. "Are you happy?" Ron asked.

"More than I ever dreamed I would be. Are you?" She nuzzled his hand as he gently caressed her cheek.

"How could I not be? There's nothing in the world I could want more than what I have now." He moved his hand to her wild curls. Suddenly, he looked very serious. "I want you to stay here, Hermione. The wards on the Burrow are strong."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't want you working for the Order anymore. I've been talking to Dad and maybe it's best if we tell Dumbledore and Harry. They wouldn't want you in danger anymore than I do." Ron stared at the sky fully expecting an argument—not the first by any stretch of the imagination.

Hermione gently laid a hand on her slightly curved middle. "I think you're right."

"Now, Hermione, I know you're upset…excuse me? Did you just say I'm right?" Ron asked in disbelief.

She nodded, and sat up to kiss his freckled cheek. Those freckles made him look forever sixteen, and for that she loved them so. "I wouldn't expect to hear it too often."

He laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it, but it is nice to hear."

"Well, someone in our little pack has to do the thinking and I can't rely on you or Harry."

"'Course not. And Hermione, there's something else."

"Really Ron, I'm not discussing names with you again. We are not calling him Ron Jr!"

He shook his head. "Nothing like that. I just want you to promise me something. If I die…" he said raising a hand to silence her complaints. "If I die, I want you to be happy again, Hermione. I want you laugh and love and never cry. I also want you let my family take care of you. They all love and God knows my mum will never let you go. Promise me that you'll not let my death change you."

Tears brimmed in her eyes. "I love you, but I can't promise that. Ron, I don't know if I can go on without you. If I lost you, I wouldn't have anything to laugh about or anyone to love."

"Yes, you would. Here," he said placing a hand on her stomach and then he looked to the glowing lights of his parents home. "And there. These are pieces of me. You can always find me if you look hard enough. I just want to make sure that you are safe and happy forever, Hermione. Promise me."

"I promise, but I'm not going to lose you. I won't allow. I love you too much."

"I love you, too. You have no idea how happy you've just made me," he told her as his mouth descended on hers. Together, they completed something so perfect that looking back they wondered how it had taken so long.

Hermione brushed away the mist of tears in her eyes. She had not kept that promise until tonight. She wasn't sure, but something inside her told her that Ron would approve of her date with Bill. He would never have wanted her to go on the way she had.

She opened a drawer and pulled out the picture of their wedding day. She stared at his smiling face. "I'm going to love you forever, Ronald Weasley."

Tossing her hair back in a ponytail and sliding into some more comfortable clothes, she decided to go tell Draco about her day. Chances were that he was aching to tell her about something or other that was driving him nutty—Chantay to be precise.


	12. In Your Eyes III

In Your Eyes III

The winds blew through Severus' long, black hair and he almost regretted his decision to come up to the astronomy tower. This had been Remy's retreat, not his. He remembered many nights when he would climb the stairs and just stand in the shadows watching Remus sit deep in his thoughts. The logical part of his brain told him that it didn't matter how many times he ventured up to the tower, Remus wasn't going to be there, but somewhere inside of him he wished. An image filled his mind and he pushed it away by sheer will. It would be back of course, because he could never forget how Lupin had died in his arms.

For a brief second, Severus thought he saw something move. His eyes scanned the dimly moonlit area. "Who's there?" a voice asked from the shadows. Neville Longbottom stood up from his spot along the wall.

"I was about to ask you the very same thing," Snape said dryly. "What in God's name are you doing up here?"

Neville shrugged, and turned his face to the sky. "I came to see the stars."

"The stars?" Severus asked incredulously. "Can you really see them?"

A bittersweet smile crossed the younger man's face. "No, but I remember. Is it clear tonight?"

A moment passed. His natural answer would have been a simple and truthful "no," but somehow Neville deserved more. "The moon is almost full," he began…that at least was true. "It's blessedly clear out and the stars are shining. The sky is very nice tonight." In reality, it was overcast and only moon poked through, but the lie made Neville's smile widen.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Severus let the silence drag unsure of what to say next. He just stared at Neville bathed in the light of the moon. So much had changed. "How long have known Maeve?"

"Well, I…um she wasn't joking when she said she owes me a bruise. I did run into her—literally—when I first moved to muggle London. She was visiting friends and hit her with a door when I was leaving a shop," he explained sheepishly.

"Were you blind then?" 

"Nearly. You can ask, you know. I don't mind."

"What makes you think that I'd care?"

"Nothing really, it's just most people ask out of curiosity," Neville said nonchalantly. "I'm used to it."

"People can be rather annoying. It seems to be their nature to poke their heads into things that don't concern them." The wind picked up and Severus would have sworn he heard Neville laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It's just that I used to think that. I wanted everyone to leave me alone. I didn't want people asking me questions, or offering to help when I didn't ask for it, but then I realized that it's simply because people don't know how to act, or what's appropriate and what isn't. When people get something in their heads about a person, or a group of people who are different than they are, the only way to change that is to tell them the truth. I'd rather have people ask me a hundred questions than walk around with some half cocked idea of who I am and what I can or can't do," he added.

Severus snorted. Trust a bloody Gryffindor to want to change the world. "So you plan on answering whatever questions those little brats have for you?"

Neville nodded. The firm set of his jaw suited him, much better than the quivering lower lip.

"Stupidity. You'll never get around to the topic at hand," Severus told him. "Those students know when they are setting teachers off on tangents, just to get away from their work. By the time you're done, they may have perfect etiquette with the blind and no idea who Salazar Slytherin was."

"Snape, tell me how you really feel."

All he could do was stare. This was Neville fucking Longbottom giving HIM sarcasm. "You're really not terrified of me anymore are you?"

"No, I've dealt with demons far stronger than you, and come out the better. Whatever power you had over me in that respect is long gone. I'm not the child who runs from your shadow."

"We all faced Deatheaters, Longbottom, don't pretend to be the hero just for that," Snape quipped. He really was becoming enraged. Between Rolanda's pranks and Neville's smart mouth, he wasn't sure what made him more upset.

"No, I would never pretend to be anything. The demons I meant were my own," Neville said with a sigh. "Didn't you ever wonder why I was such a bloody wreck in school?"

Severus shook his head, and then silently called himself a moron. "No, you're your ineptitude seemed quite natural to me. Was I wrong?"

"When I was a child, my vision was very fuzzy, and I had problems seeing things when the lights weren't bright enough. Gran was frantic, when the healers told her that I had RP—retinititus pigmentosa. It's a disorder that would eventually leave me completely blind, but the healers had something to help me with it. I would trade my magic for my sight. Also, it made me forgetful and effected my weight. I was miserable, but I didn't know what to do. I was too afraid to stop taking the potions they gave me," he admitted.

A pang of guilt hit Severus as he recalled Remy's voice. You never know what circumstances are affecting your students. Longbottom may be dealing with things we can't even imagine. "Lupin knew."

"Yes, he did. He was the one who encouraged me to hold on to my dreams. He let me know that I could still be whatever I wanted to be…that I was worth something after all."

"Remus did have that effect on people." He didn't want to talk about Remus, not tonight of all nights. "So now I must ask—what went wrong? Did the potions stop working?"

"I stopped taking them my fifth year."

"Why would you do something like that?" The stupidity of the decision hit Snape instantly.

For the first time, he saw anger harden those features. "Do you think Harry was the only one who had something to prove? Was he the only one who had the right to fight Voldemort? After the night that black died, I knew I had to be strong. I knew I wanted to avenge my parents! It was the right thing to do. I knew that if I stopped taking the potions that I would have time before my system expelled all of the potion, and after that I was willing to take my chances. RP doesn't always advance at the pace, and I was lucky enough to have time to do what I had to do."

"For once, I understand completely." He placed a hand on the mark that he would bear for life whether Voldemort lived or not. Severus was not foreign to choices. "You may think that I'm a monster, Neville, but I am not. I, like you, did what I had to."

"I never thought you were a monster, Severus," Neville's voice was soft and it almost seemed to Snape that large hazel eyes were staring at him.

"Didn't you? I seem to remember an incident with a boggart." The corner's of the darker man's lips twitched.

"Maybe you don't know what it was about you that I found so terrifying," Neville said letting out that damn throaty laugh again.

"I'm afraid to ask."

Cocking an eyebrow, the blind man reached a hand out toward Severus' direction. Almost by instinct, he found himself taking it and pulling Neville to him. Scant inches separated the men. The Gryffindor moved first, his hands finding Snape's jaw and gently ghosting across features that he remembered so well. He closed his useless eyes and smiled. "Just like I remembered."

"Neville," Severus fairly croaked. He hadn't felt like this in three years.

"I was afraid because I knew that you were all I wanted, and all I couldn't have. You despised me, but I wanted so much to make up for all of my mistakes," a small stutter rippled through those words ever so slightly.

"Maybe I'm to blame as well. Remy was right when he told me that I never knew what was affecting you. I'm not the most understanding person, at times, and I realize that."

Severus stared at the man before him. Everything felt so right. He'd spent so many years pushing everyone away, locking away any trace of his emotions, but here he was free. There was nothing standing between him and his desire, only a few scant inches. Closing the gape, he pressed his mouth on top of Neville's. He felt the other man's surprise before they melted into one and other.

He barely felt the floor beneath him as led Neville to the dungeons. There was no rush. Neither of them where hormonal children. They took time to savor every second. That was something the war had taught both of them. As clothes were shed, they took time to admire every inch of their desire. Kissing, touching, slowly devouring every detail. The night was slow and sweet. For the first time in three years, Severus Snape had something pure in his life, and he had found it in the most unlikely place.


	13. All The Way To Heaven

AN Phew! I finally got to the good stuff! PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW!

All The Way To Heaven

Draco was true to his word. Sundays were the only days he didn't work as a rule, and so he didn't have to deal with Chantay. Instead, he squared off with Hermione. He'd always imaged that Ron and Harry had exaggerated when they said how fierce she could be, but he now knew that, if anything, they'd not done justice to her temper. It had taken him a good hour's argument before she let him out the door alone. But it was well worth it. He didn't want Harry to feel threatened anymore than absolutely necessary. Once more, he had to hold a hand over his face as he walked the halls to Harry's apartment to ward off the stench. How had Harry come to this low?

His hand barely grazed the door when it opened. Face down on the bed with his arms and legs sprawled at odd angles, Harry slept. Draco would have been panicked, except he saw Harry's body rise with steady breaths. He could stay forever and just watch him sleep. The ache that had ripped through him every time he thought of Harry was slowly dissipating. It was almost enough to know that he was alive…almost. He needed to have Harry in his life, and he now saw that he needed Draco whether he would admit it or not.

"Excuse me?' called a female voice from behind him. Draco turned to face an older woman. She appeared to be in her late sixties with fashionably dyed blonde hair and expensive clothes. In each arm, she had a grocery bag. "Exactly what are you doing in James's apartment?"

"I came to see him and he's sleeping. The door was open," he added as he gently closed it behind him, not wanting to disturb him. "I'm Draco Michaels. James and I went to school together."

She nodded and took his offered hand. "I'm Beth Ramsey. I guess you could say I'm a friend of sorts." She cocked her head slightly to the side. "You're the one he sent the roses to, aren't you?"

"Yes, I didn't know he was in New York. I didn't even know…if he was alright," he didn't know why he felt the need to explain himself to her.

"Alright is a matter of opinion. Why don't you and I go for a cup of coffee? James rarely gets any real sleep and we shouldn't bother him."

They ended up at a run down, but clean diner a few blocks away. She stared at him, but he could tell she was being cautious rather than rude. He couldn't fault her with that. She had yet to decide how trust worthy he was. Finally, she set her cup down. "Did you get your scars in the same accident that he lost his arm in?"

He wasn't quite sure how to answer that. There was no way he could know what Harry had already told her. "Yes." He feared elaborating would only dig a hole with the woman. "How do you know James?"

"He worked in my store for a while, before he took the turn for the worse. James is an exceptional person beneath all of that anger, but I don't think I have to tell you that. I'm not sure what it was that led him to this, but I don't doubt that it was traumatic," Beth added. "Do you love him?"

"With every part of my being," Draco assured her. "He's not doing very well is he?"

"No. In fact, he's slowly killing himself. Whatever demons he has have been ripping him to shreds, and the drugs have only been speeding it up."

His stomach dropped. "Drugs?"

Pale blue eyes stared at him with hurt. "I assumed you knew."

"I didn't, but please tell me," he begged.

" I really should start at the beginning I suppose. James came in to my shop—I own an antiques store—a little over two years ago looking for work. He was such a quiet boy, and he seemed so nice. I hired him and he became something of a second son to my husband Frank and I. Not long after, I realized how much pain he seemed to be in all the time. I didn't think anything of it when he started taking oxy contin for the pain. That's when we lost him. Things started spiraling out of control from then on. He started crushing the pills and using them to escape. His whole personality changed. He became so angry and mean. In the end, I fired him hoping that it would serve as a wake up call, but he just started working over nights in some convenience store. Now, I only do what I can in hopes that he will straighten out," she said sadly.

"My God, I didn't realize," Draco stammered. He had never imagined Harry Potter—the-boy-who-lived would ever fall into something like this. Harry was always so straight laced and good. "I have to reach him."

A thin wrinkled hand reached across the table and took hold of his. "I think you already have."

"What do you mean?"

"When he saw that picture of you, he begged me for the money for the roses. It was the first time in months that I've seen him care about anything but those damn pills," she told him hopefully.

"What picture?" he was stunned. He NEVER allowed anyone near him with a camera.

"There was a picture in a magazine with you poking your head out of the wings watching your fashion show. He saw it when he was stocking the shelves at night," Beth explained.

"Well at least something good came of it. He told me that the roses were his goodbye."

Beth shook her head. "He's telling himself that, but it's a lie. He loves you and it might be what he needs to get away from that poison."

The two left the coffee shop, and Draco felt his mind moving at million miles per second. He had to help Harry. There was nothing more important than that. Chantay Michaels would have to do without him until Harry was safe. Walking up the stairs once more, he made himself a promise. No matter what the outcome of their relationship, he would not let Harry come back to this rat palace. Harry deserved so much more. In truth maybe he deserved more than a scared son of a death eater, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

By the time they got back, Harry was sitting on the bed in somewhat clean jeans and a faded blue t-shirt with his arm hanging lifelessly and pitifully at his side. "I should have known that you two would end up together," he said rudely.

"We both care about you, James," Beth told him ignoring his glare. Suddenly, Draco remembered Harry yelling obscenities at someone when he came to the door. He had been yelling at Beth. How could he say such hurtful things?

"James" let out a snort. "I don't know why you can't just take a hint and leave me alone. I don't need either of you." Beth walked by him into the closet that posed as a kitchen and began to unload groceries into the refrigerator, and all he could do was stare at the man that he loved with shock. Harry glared at him. "Don't look at me like that."

"I honestly don't know what to say to you anymore." Draco let out a sigh. "Come to dinner with me tonight, Harry. We need to talk."

"Why would I go anywhere with you?"

Once again, the Malfoy stubbornness surfaced. "Because I will have this conversation here, or you can come with me to my apartment and we can talk in private it doesn't matter to me either way."

He ran his fingers through his unwashed hair. "I hate you, Malfoy."

"You've said that before."

Draco rushed around in his apartment putting together a meal. It was so strange that he found he actually enjoyed cooking. Growing up, he would have laughed at the idea of preparing his own meals, but he found it somehow therapeutic. The stress of a day could usually be worked out as he measured and cut and sautéed. Tonight, it simply managed to steady his mind a bit, giving him something else to think about. Dinner would be simple; chicken, rice, and steam asparagus.

He was glad that Hermione was nowhere to be found when he got home. She had left a note on the table saying that she would be in the Burrow for the evening with Molly and Arthur. Thankfully, she had promised not to tell anyone about Harry just yet. He wasn't sure that anyone involved was ready for the emotional storm that was Molly Weasley. He would tell Harry about Hermione tonight, he decided.

The clock on the wall said seven fifteen when there was he heard the phone ring. "Hello?"

"Mr. Michaels, this is Paul."

"Hi, Paul. Is there a problem?"

"Well, there's a guy down here that says you invited him to dinner…a uh…James Black."

His heart beat wildly. "Yes, Paul. He's a dear friend of mine. Let him in."

"Will do. You have a nice night."

"You too, Paul." Draco hung up and hurried to finish setting the table. Tonight wasn't about romance, but one night Draco wanted to make a dinner for two with candles and wine.

A knock came to the door and Draco opened it to find Harry standing there showered and in clean clothes. "I knew you'd end up in a place like this."

Draco ignored the barb and let motioned him to come inside. "You look better," he said. "I hope you like chicken."

The dark haired man gave a noncommittal shrug and looked around the lavish room. Everything was in perfect taste and expertly matched in shades of greens and blues. Stylish and expensive, it was just what Draco had wanted. Harry seemed annoyed by it. "Not out of you element at all," he mumbled.

"Yes, but this I paid for on my own," the blonde said with pride.

Green eyes locked on him. "What do you want with me, Draco? What could you possibly want?"

His throat tightened. "I want to love you. I want to see you get better."  
Bitterness crept into Harry's voice. "There's nothing anyone can do about my arm."

"That's not what I meant." He stepped closer. "I want to help you get out of that hell hole. I want to see you feel alive again. I love you, Harry." 

"Do you?" So many things shown in those a large glimmering eyes—need, pain, sadness, fear, and love.

"Yes, I do. So much that there were times I didn't think I could live without you. If it wasn't for Hermione…"

"Hermione?" Harry interrupted.

Draco chuckled. "Yes, we've become best friends. She and I mourned together. We even shared a flat for a time, but now she lives just down the hall."

"Does she know?"

He nodded. "She knows, but I got her to agree to give you time."

"Time for what, Draco, I'm not going to come back into the happy little group of Hogwarts graduates. I can't do this. Don't you see that I'm not the person I used to be!"

Gray eyes hardened a bit. "Neither am I. Neither is Hermione. We have all changed. No one got away without feeling it, Harry. We've been helping each other through and we can help you too, if you'd only let us," he pleaded.

"I can't. I just can't," Harry said softly. Wetness appeared on his cheeks.

"I know about the pills," Draco said firmly. "We can help you."

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I don't want to hurt like this, Draco. You don't have any idea what happened to me."

"I won't until you tell me." It was the plain and simple truth and Harry knew he was beaten.

"I can't face that again."

"But this time won't be alone," Draco assured him wiping the tears from his cheeks. "You're never going to have to face anything alone. I'll be here."

"Oh God, Draco, I can't take it anymore. I don't have it in me to fight."

Draco kissed Harry's forehead, and wrapped his arms around him. "Don't. Let me take care of you. We can do this together. You can have as much time as you need."

Harry returned the embrace. "I love you so much."

Draco felt his heart swell as he kissed Harry. His need ran wildly through him. Harry completed him. Now, he could finally breathe. "I love you, too. I promise that I'm not going to let you down this time."

When the emotions had finally cooled, Draco led Harry to the dining room and set a plate before him. "You're so thin. I'll have to do my best to get you to put on some weight."

Harry merely nodded, but he didn't really show any interest in the food. Neither did Draco. His stomach was in a tight ball, but he tried to put on a good face. When the meal was over, Harry helped collect the plates and take them to the kitchen.

"You don't have to do that," Draco told him.

He shrugged. "I've been doing housework for so many years that it's just habit. Vernon would have beat the shit out of me for not taking plates up."

"I wish I could go back and take away all the pain they caused you," the blonde said softly. He had only scratched the surface on Harry's life with the Dursley's and it made him sick to think about it. Vernon and Petunia were not fit to live in his opinion. They were every bit as awful as Lucius had been.

Sitting on the couch, Draco finally had the courage to ask, "Will you stay here tonight?"

Harry sat perfectly still for a moment, before shaking his head. "I can't…not yet."

"I don't mean to push," Draco said earnestly. "I'm just so afraid that you'll disappear again."

"I can't promise you anything," was all Harry said to that.

"Well, I promise you that I will find you no matter where you are." He pulled Harry against him and the two sat there feeling more at peace than they had in years.

"What time is it?" Harry asked nervously.

"Eleven. Why?"  
"I have to be at work by twelve."

Standing facing each other, an awkward moment passed. "Quit," Draco told him impulsively. "You don't have to work there anymore; I'll take care of things."

"No. I need to…just give me time. I don't need you to take over my life for me." The bitterness was back. "This is stupid."

He stormed out of the apartment and Draco knew that it would be wrong to follow him. Harry was right—it wasn't his place to take over. He sighed and slouched back on to the couch.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Mu-chan (flower meanings vary), Katrina (wow, don't you sleep girl?), Dark Angel's Blue Fire, Tuesday night, Fudge Baby, DM Weasley, Nitwittie, Anika, Dairy Girl, Chaney, Nickel Nerd, and Love and Peace! Reviews make my day.


	14. All the Way to Heaven II

All The Way To Heaven II

Hermione did the only thing that she could think of to get her mind off of Harry—she went to see Molly again. This time, when she flooed in, the older woman was bustling around the kitchen singing to herself. "Oh, Hermione! You gave me quite the start," she said laughing. "What brings you out this way?"

"I just had such a lovely time last night that I wanted to see you again," she lied—well it was only half a lie, she reasoned. The kitchen smelled wonderful and it wasn't long before she felt her stomach grumble. 

"You must be starving. I just can't believe how thin you've gotten. Now we can't have you wasting away, can we? Sit down and I'll fix you something," Molly told her happily. Hermione would have sworn that she saw a twinkle in the woman's eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you, but you don't have to," Hermione protested even as her stomach growled at her to shut her mouth.

"Nonsense, dear. I miss cooking for a crowd these days." Over the years, Molly Weasley's cooking had become quite legendary. The surviving members of the Order would find themselves at the Burrow every now and then just for a bite. And then there were the books.

A year or so after the war, Molly had found herself in need of a hobby to keep her mind off of her missing children. It started as a simple little recipe book that she would give out as a gift, but it soon became much more. At Bill's urging, she sent it into a publishing company and now it was considered a kitchen must have for every witch. "Table For Nine" was much more than a cookbook. It included little bits of information about the Weasley family with each recipe. Molly had written two books more on raising children and on how to make wonderful holidays on a budget—things of course that she was an expert of. She was now the Martha Stewart of the wizarding world, except that she was genuine and likable.

The Weasley family no longer wanted for money, that was sure, but not much had changed in how Molly ran her household. She held out a plate of waffles in front of Hermione and offered her syrup. "These look delicious," Hermione said as she took the plate. "Where's Arthur?"

"He and Bill went to Diagon Alley a little while ago. They should be back soon." A smile widened across her plump, motherly face. "It was nice that you and Bill got to see each other again. He always asks about you."

Hermione nearly choked on her waffle. "Oh, yes, it was nice to see him," she murmured. She could feel the blood rise to her face. Had Bill told her about their date? Cutting another large bite, she kept her mouth full in hopes that Molly wouldn't ask her any questions, but it was a failed effort.

"So what are you going to wear Friday?" she asked with a prideful grin.

Hermione about choked to death on her food. "He told you?"

"You didn't think I wouldn't invest in my own sons' company did you?" She set a pair of extendable ears on the table and Hermione groaned. "I'm sorry, dear, I wouldn't have eves dropped, but I just couldn't help it."

"I'm so embarrassed! This is all Shakespearean," she muttered.

"Shakespearean?" Molly asked.

A voice from outside the window answered, "muggle play writer, dear." Arthur Weasley stepped through door with Bill a few feet behind. "Why would you be talking about him?"

"Oh, nothing important, love," she replied briskly.

Bill flashed a smile at Hermione and she felt her heart flutter ever so slightly. "I didn't think I'd see you again this soon," he said.

Hermione wanted to melt away slowly. "I…um… I wanted to see your mum again."

"Would you like to take a walk with me?"

She pushed back a stray strand of hair and smiled at him. "That would be great."

Outside they strode a ways from the house before Bill spoke. "I suppose my mother was explaining her little eves dropping the other night? I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

"Embarrassed me? No, I'm not embarrassed. It's just I…I haven't dated since Ron died. I was hoping that we could get the date itself over and done with before she found out. I was afraid she'd be angry with me," Hermione confessed childishly.

Bill stopped mid step and stared at her for a moment. "Why on Earth would she be?"

She shrugged. "Because of Ron. Because I'm betraying him, in a way."

"Ron wouldn't want you to be alone."

"I know that. I promised him that I would be happy, but it's hard sometimes." Hermione plopped down on a grassy hill and tugged at the grass.

Bill cleared his throat and sat beside her. His blue eyes were clouded with sadness, as he took hold of her hand. "I made Ron a promise too. I told him that I would make sure you were safe and happy."

Hermione pulled her hand back angrily. "So this is what the date is about! You feel obligated because of a promise! Well I can get my own dates thank you very much."

"No, Hermione, just let me explain please!" He raked a hand through his long red hair. "He could have asked any of our brothers. Do you know why Ron asked me?"

Still annoyed, she simply shook her head.

"Because he knew that I was falling in love with you."

"Don't even try to tell me something so ridiculous! You had Fleur."

Bill nodded. "I had a vain, whiny brat, and every time I looked at you I admired you more. Ron brought you home for Christmas your seventh year, and all I could do was stare. I felt like bloody pedophile! Here I was twenty-seven years old, and I was drooling over a seventeen year old girl. He came to me, because he knew that I would love you every bit as much as he did."

Hermione closed her eyes. He must have done it around the same time that she made her promise. "Bill, I never knew. Why have you been avoiding me all this time? Every time I came for a holiday, you were mysteriously away. Why tell me this now?"

"It's taken me this long to not blame myself," he said solemnly.

"But why would you blame yourself?" Tears crept up in her eyes.

"I envied Ron. For a time, I felt like I killed him with my wanting you." His voice was thick with emotion. "I would give anything to have them back."

Her cheeks were soaked and she hugged him fiercely. "I would too. But I know that none of them would want either of us to be unhappy."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I don't expect you to love me, not yet anyway, but I want to try."

Smiling, she wiped the tears away. "I do too."


	15. All the way To Heaven III

All the Way To Heaven III

Severus woke in the middle of the night and peered into the darkness. The warm body beside him didn't stir. There was something off. Severus couldn't quite name it, but he knew that there was a feeling in the room that he had only vague recollections of. In the truest sense of the word, it was ironic that feeling peaceful should disrupt his sleep, but it did. He had spent so many years in pain and fear that he wasn't sure how to just accept things as they were. Even his time with Remus was tainted by the fear that he would loose him.

In an uncharacteristically affectionate move, Severus reached out and caressed Neville's shoulder. Why the hell the man found him attractive he would never understand, but then he hadn't understood Remy either. The two were so very much alike in ways—the most glaring of course being that irritating optimism. Life had most certainly not been the kindest to either of them, but they both bore it with grace. Severus was not so congenial about everything. The idea that a person could be happy even when circumstances weren't ideal was foreign to him. He envied that—wished he could change enough to be that kind of man. It was, of course, ridiculous to be jealous of either man.

Memories flooded back to him of how much pain Remus had been in during the change. He'd seen it a few times and it nearly tore him apart inside to see the agony in those amber eyes. When the night was over, Severus would always go back and find Lupin sprawled out nude with the night's events written across his body, but somehow he always managed to smile when that door opened. "Good morning, love," he would say, the forced cheer only thinly veiling his pain. The wizarding world heaped insults and intolerance on him, but he never stopped being a good man. To the end, he cared about everyone around him.

"Are you awake?" Neville asked softly.

Severus rolled toward him. "I am."

The younger man let out a muffled groan. "I know it isn't morning yet. Why aren't you sleeping?"

"How do you know?" Severus asked avoiding the subject.

"I have an impeccable internal clock, but that wasn't what I'd asked you."

Severus covered his face with his hands. "It's nothing of importance."

Luckily, Neville let the matter dropped and instead simply sighed and laid his head on Severus' chest. "So exactly what time is it?"

With a word the clock on the dungeon wall illuminated. "Four-thirty."

A little laugh escaped the darkness, and a hand slid down the potions master's thin body followed by feathery soft kisses. A groan passed through Severus' lips. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Well, it's what you deserve for waking me up." That was the last thing Neville said before he began sucking on Snape's penis. Dear God, that mouth did wonders! His tongue caressed the length of the hardened cock sending a wave of ecstasy through Severus body. Sighing as he reached his limit, he took a moment to marvel at the fact that this was Neville Longbottom. The official disaster story of Gryffindor house had grown up, and sucked off his former potions professor.

"Get up here," Severus commanded. He doubted it had come across anything like his usual. His heart was still pumping furiously as he fiercely pushed his mouth on top of Neville's tasting himself there. It was times like this that it was good to be in secluded dungeon of the school. No one heard a thing as the two made love rather noisily.

When all was said and done, Severus leaned back feeling a sort of giddiness…or as close to giddiness as the infamous Professor Snape ever came. He smiled. "God, if I had ever imagined this I would have committed myself to a nut ward. You're one of the few men who have ever truly surprised me."

Neville sighed. "I live to please. And I'm not the only one who's dropped a shock bomb here."

"When exactly did I shock you?"

"On the tower," the younger man answered simply as he idly traced circles on Sev's arm.

"You weren't expecting me to kiss you?" the dark man asked puzzled.

"No, I just didn't think you'd actually care enough to lie to me about the stars."

Severus shot right up. "How the bloody hell did you know I lied?"

To add to his irritation, Neville was laughing so hard the bed shook slightly. "It's called a weather report."

Grumbling, Severus asked, "Well then why didn't you call me on it?"

"Because it was nice to imagine." His voice was wistful, but not self-pitying.

"Can you still see anything at all?" 

"Some, nothing that's really all that helpful. I can see the difference between light and dark. Sometimes I can see shapes moving around, but I can't make out any detail or color. This may or may not be as bad as it gets. There are people with RP who never go completely blind," he explained.

"You're a braver man than I," Severus admitted.

To his dismay, Neville got out of bed and began searching for his clothes. "You know, you can just stop there."

"What the hell are you doing? I just gave you a bloody compliment," Snape roared incredulously.

"Call me brave because I fought the Death Eaters. Call me brave because I enjoy skydiving, or because I go mountain climbing. Never call me brave for living my life like anyone else. Yes, I'm blind, but I am not some helpless child trying to look independent. I am a twenty-two year old man, so don't try and give me points for being self-sufficient." Neville said sternly.

Sitting on the bed, Severus had to contain a laugh. He couldn't believe he had just been scolded like that. "Well, my impertinent Gryffindor, I meant that you were braver than I because you didn't give into your self pity or let it make you pessimistic, but it seems that it has made you over dramatic instead."

Neville sighed and sat back down on the bed. "I'm sorry. I guess you hit a nerve."

"So it would seem," Snape said flatly. "You'd best get out of here before the students wake up. It would be a pity if the gossip began before your teaching."


	16. Hold On My Heart

Hold on My Heart

Draco spent most of Monday morning trying to avoid Chantay's questions. The woman could drive him absolutely insane. "This is why I am a bloody gay man," he murmured to himself at his desk. Luckily, the woman in question was too busy draping fabric over a mannequin to notice him at all.

Hermione, the other hand, was sending daggers his way. Her look told him that she wasn't going to wait very long to see Harry. It wasn't that he didn't see the significance of the golden trio, nor that he didn't think she loved him. Draco wasn't sure how Harry would react to her. The sound of Harry's venom toward Beth made him leery of the whole idea. He just didn't know what to do.

The day went by painfully slow, and he decided to stop at home before heading out to see Harry. Tossing his gloves on the table, Draco cast a glance in the mirror. He made it a full ten steps into the living room before he noticed something…or rather that he had forgotten to notice something. Back peddling into the entryway, he stared into the mirror once more.

In three years, the first thing he always thought when looking at himself was how ugly he was. He saw the scars and nothing else. But just now, he hadn't noticed them at all. In fact the only thing he thought at all at the sight of himself was that he might need a haircut soon. It was strange standing there without any self-loathing. He didn't miss the feeling, that was sure, but he felt all together different about it. Thinking back, he didn't even notice any of the usual stares or rude comments on the way home. For once, he was so utterly full feeling that he hadn't cared. It occurred to him that it didn't matter anymore. He had Harry and that was more than enough. If Harry loved him even with his scars, he honestly didn't care what the world thought of him, or what he looked like in the mirror. He smiled at himself, and the man peering back at him was much more than the boy with a perfect face.

By the time he was ready to go see his lover, his mood had brightened so much that he could barely contain his happiness. When he saw Beth coming up the sidewalk, he smiled at her. "You look happy. Things went well last night?"

Draco shrugged. "Things went as well as I could hope for at this point."

Beth raised and ashen brow. "So why the smile?"

"Nothing important. I just realized something before I came here that's all."

The older woman sighed and shook her head. "Let's go see James. Who knows maybe he won't even say anything off color today."

Later, he would try to piece together the events that followed, but everything was a blur. He remembered taking the stairs, and seeing the door half open. Pushing it farther, he gasped and screamed for Beth to call an ambulance. Harry was sprawled out on the floor. Beside him lay an empty bottle of pills and a spilled bottle of cheep scotch. Draco knelt down beside him trying to push the hysteria out of his mind. He checked for breathing and nearly lost control when he wasn't. Thank God, he still had a faint pulse.

"Move!" Beth cried. She shoved a cell phone in Draco's hand, and began to roll Harry on his back. Tilting his head back, Beth breathed into his mouth watching be air fill his chest.

"Ma'am? Ma'am! Are you still with us?" A voice sounded from the phone.

"She's breathing for him," Draco said weakly. All he could do was watch.

"Sir, do you know what he took?"

He picked up the bottle. "Oxy Contin and scotch."

"How much?"

Beth began to panic as the seconds ticked by. Her attempts to revive Harry became more and more frantic. "Oh, God James, come back!"

"SIR! Can you tell me how much? You have to remain calm."

"I don't know! I don't know!"

Please God, don't let him die. Don't die. Please you have to hold on! Draco pleaded silently. He was shaking so badly that he dropped the phone. Like a miracle, two EMT's rushed through the door.

After that, time slowed to an almost stop. Hours past by like years in the hospital waiting room. He sat beside Beth with a ball of lead in his stomach and tears on his face, and she didn't look much better. Periodically, they would see someone walk by them and not even look at the strange pair. The doctor who had initially came to ask questions about medical history had been reluctant to share any information with people who were not family. 

They hadn't been there overly long when a grizzled old man in his sixties stormed in. "Bethy baby," he said breathlessly. 

The normally composed woman dissolved into her husband's chest. "I can't do this again!" she cried.

"Shh, darling, it's going to be fine. You probably saved that boy's life. Now it's time to calm down and wait," he told her softly. "Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up and have a cup of coffee?"  
Beth nodded and scurried out of the room leaving Draco and her husband to simply stare at each other. "So you're the boyfriend?" he said plainly.

Draco nodded. "I'm Draco Michaels."

The man sat down uninvited. "I'm Jack."

The silence and minutes dragged on, yet Draco kept replaying what Beth had said in his head. Finally, he had to ask. "What did she mean when she said she couldn't do this again?"

Jack grunted. "Our boy, Jack Jr., came home from Nam and blew his brains out. He spent a lot of time doing drugs before he did it. I guess Bethy wanted to save this one."

"And she did," a gray haired doctor said as he swept into the room. "I'm Dr. Caruthers. I handled James today."

Draco was confused by the openness of the man. "I thought you weren't allowed to tell us anything?"

The doctor smiled and winked at him. "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't share information with his fiancé." Draco merely stared at him gratefully. Dr. Caruthers continued,"anyway, James is doing very well. Your wife keeping air going into him saved him. Not to mention, that it reduced the risk of brain damage. I think he'll make a full recovery."

The weight melted off of Draco's chest and he couldn't restrain the tears of happiness from flowing. "Oh God, thank you." He stood and shook the doctor's hand. "Can I see him?"

"In a little while. He is going to have to have a psych consult. They may want him to go into an institution for a bit."

Draco nodded, but deep down he knew what was really best for Harry.

When Beth got back, there were many more tears of relief. She agreed to wait until morning to see Harry, and kissed his cheek before leaving. "You'll help him through this, I know," she said quietly.

Draco's stomach was in knots by the time he was led down a fluorescent lit hall. This was the first time he'd ever been inside a muggle hospital. Everything about it made him want to run away. The smell seemed to creep into every pore of his being.

He opened the door with his heart in his mouth, and stared at the man sitting in the bed. Harry's face was drawn and still slightly grayish, and tubes stuck out of his arm. Facing Draco, his eyes welled up. All Draco could do was ask, "Why?"

"I can't live like this anymore," Harry croaked.

"Let me help you. I want make this better for you." He took hold of Harry's limp hand. "Please, just let me be there for you. No matter what, you don't have to be alone."

"You don't know anything about it. How could you? You weren't there!"

"Tell me all of it, Harry. I'm not leaving until you do."

For along time, they just sat there. Draco holding Harry's hand and Harry staring at the wall. Finally, he faced Draco. "He made me live it," he said hoarsely. "All of it. He took all of his memories and put them into me. I know everything he did. I was THERE when my parents died! I watched him mutilate my father. And then my mother…oh God, and that's not the worst of it. I FELT what he did. He was inside me and I still can't get rid of what he put in my head. I was supposed to protect everyone and I became the one who did it."

Draco wrapped his arms around him fiercely. "No, Harry, that's not you. And you don't have to protect anyone anymore. I'm here. I'll protect you from now on, ok?"

"Draco, you don't understand. How can I be with you when I know what they did to you? I know like I was there. It's like I was part of it! And it felt like I was laughing at it, enjoying it! How can I be with you when it's my fault?" Harry was trembling.

Memories of the night he was raped by the Death Eaters rose in his mind unbidden. It had taken him years to push it all away, and deal with it. Now, holding the love of his life, he felt sick. "That wasn't you," he said firmly. "Voldemort order his men to do that, but you are not him. Listen to me, I love you. I will be there for you forever. You are not going to face these things alone. We'll talk about it, all of it."

"But I can't…"

He forced Harry to look at him. "You will. We will. The only way to heal is together.

"I love you, Draco. I want to believe we can do it."

Draco smiled. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. I love you more than anything."

"Ahem!" They both turned to the door to see a disgruntled nurse. "Time to leave," she said harshly.

He pushed a raven lock off Harry's forehead and kissed the scar. "Get some sleep, love. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Just as he turned to go, Harry called to him, "Tomorrow is the first day I've looked forward to in a long time."

Back at his apartment, Draco collapsed onto the couch with his head spinning. What next? No avoiding it—it was time to call in the cavalry.


	17. Hold On My Heart II

Hold On My Heart II

Hermione stared at the clock on the wall. She hadn't heard from Draco since he'd left work, not that that was entirely unusual. In the pit of her stomach she just had a bad feeling. With everything that he'd told her about Harry, she wondered how things were going to go. Harry always had been the type to avoid asking for help, even when he needed it more than anything.

Sighing, she stripped down to a filmy nightgown and pulled her hair back. She nearly screamed when she heard a distinctive POP from her living room. Her heart stood still as she imagined the worst. Had something happened at the Burrow? She rushed into the living room.

Bill stood in her fireplace with a bottle of champagne in one hand, dusting himself off with the other. He stared at her hungrily. "You look gorgeous," he said.

Looking down, she gave a little shriek and hurried back in the bedroom to at least grab a robe. When she came back out, he was still grinning. "I meant to catch you around dinner time," he explained, glancing toward the clock on the wall.

"You're three or four hours off," she said dryly. "I was just getting ready for bed."

He laughed. "I still say you look beautiful. Maybe next time I'll do it deliberately to see what I can find you then."

Heat rose to her face. "Next time you'll owl me first."

"Am I too late? I'll leave if I'm bothering you." He looked earnest and extremely sexy in his black dragon skin jacket.

"No, but don't you have to work tomorrow… or today or whatever?" she asked.

"I took a personal day," he said with a shrug. "Do you have glasses?"

Hermione went to the kitchen and pulled out a set of crystal wine glasses Draco had bought her for Christmas. With a wave of his wand, Bill had the bottle open and poured them each some of the bubbly liquid. "What should we toast to?" she wondered.

"To something new," he replied.

Hermione raised her glass. "To something new."

Setting the champagne aside, Bill pulled her close. "What's wrong, Hermione? I know that all of your trips to the Burrow aren't about my parents…or even me."

"Oh, Bill, I'm not sure I should tell you," she said softly.

"Don't you trust me?"

She nodded. "But it's not my secret to tell."

Sighing heavily, he began to knot his fingers in her hair. "That big, eh?"

"Huge," another voice answered from the door. 

They had been so intent on each other that neither or them had heard Draco come in. The blonde threw his long, black coat over the back of a chair, and seated himself without being invited. He looked deathly pale and had dark circle under his eyes. Hermione hadn't seen him look this bad in years. "Did you tell him?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I haven't told anyone. Draco, what happened? Is everything ok?"

"He tried to kill himself."

"Oh, my God!"

"He's going to be fine," Draco assured her. "He asked for help."

Bill cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be rude, but who exactly are we talking about here?"

Draco glanced from Bill to Hermione. "Can we trust him?" Hermione nodded and that was enough to secure his faith. "You can't tell anyone this…especially not your mother. I don't think he's ready for that."

Obviously frustrated, Bill agreed, "I won't tell anyone. Now what is going on here?"

"Harry's alive, Bill. I found him."

Blue eyes went wide and looked to Hermione for truth. "But how?"

"After he killed Voldemort, he came to the muggle world. I'm not quite sure of the details yet, but he ended up in New York and found out about my design company. I've been desperately trying to get him to open up and this is the first time it's worked," Draco explained. "He needs help, but I'm not sure I'll be enough."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"He's addicted to drugs…oxy contin, to be exact. The doctor told me something about rapid detox."

Hermione shuddered. "I don't know much about that kind of thing, but I know it isn't good. The symptoms of withdrawal are brutal."

"That's what the doctor told me too," he confirmed.

Bill stood up. "What about Severus? Surely he could come up with something to get it out of Harry's system without too much damage."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Bill, that's brilliant!"

Draco smiled widely. "Hermione, I'm going to use your fireplace."


	18. Hold On My Heart III

Hold On My Heart III

The halls of Hogwarts were buzzing with the praises of one Professor Longbottom. Students from all four houses—with the exception of a few sullen Slytherins—were elated with the change in teachers. It didn't even seem to matter that he had not forgotten about the essay they had been assigned before Binns retired, Professor Longbottom was easily one of the most popular professors after only one day. This of course did not surprise Severus. He had already known that his new lover was congenial enough to make a mark on students. What he hadn't expected was that Neville had a rather hefty workload for the student. Rolanda had given him a peak at the lesson plans Neville had turned. It amazed him that he had managed to find a balance.

By the time his free period came around, his curiosity was killing him. He swept back into his office muttering to himself about how utterly ridiculous he was being. Opening a small trunk, he had to fight the memories. Harry Potter had left many of his possessions to Remus Lupin, but being that Remus too had died, they had ended up with Severus. The Marauders map lay on top, and Severus touched it with a bitter smile on his lips. Such childish fancy. Remus was the last of the Marauders, he thought as he set it aside. He dug deeper. What he was looking for, Potter had left specifically to him—though Severus could not imagine why. Pulling it out, he draped the invisibility cloak over himself.

Severus tried to keep his step light as he moved down the hall and into Neville's classroom. Thankfully, it seemed that he had gone completely unnoticed. The class was orderly, he noted. Neville had a way about him that kept their attention without boring them to tears or watering down facts.

Occasionally, a student would have a question…though not always about history. The student wait until Neville finished a sentence, and then simply stated his or her name. "Thomas Larson, Hufflepuff."

Neville smiled in the boys direction. "Yes, Thomas, what is it?'

"I…I was just wondering how you move around the room without your stick and don't hit anything?"

This was obviously the question the entire class had been waiting for, and Neville was true to his word about not shying away from such things. "I count steps," he said. "I practice moving about a room and count all of steps around obstacles. I memorize where everything is. That's why it's important that you not move things around, or leave you chair out. Now back to Middle Ages. Can anyone tell me why….?"

Severus was impressed by how he diminished the importance of his blindness. Never once was the focus on anything other than history. He had to admit that he had been wrong about Neville's teaching ability. 

What really surprised him though, was that he called Alana Gilmore to stay after class. It was the end of the day, and the rest of the students shot out of the room leaving Miss Gilmore to her fate.

"Alana, come sit at my desk," Neville said softly.

"A..am I in t…t..trouble?" she asked shakily.

He smiled. "Not in the least. I just wanted to talk to you about Professor Snape."

"P..p..Professor Snape?" The girl looked shocked, and Severus nearly fell out of his hiding spot in the back of the room.

"Yes, you seem scared of him," Neville began, "but you don't have to be. I happen to know that he is not a bad person at all."

"But he's head of Slytherin!" she cried. Afterward, she seemed to realize her folly. "I didn't mean…"

Neville laughed. "It's alright, Alana. But I know two men who were Slytherins who are very good and brave men. Think of it this way, are you a bad person?" The girl shook her head. "I can't hear you."

"No," the girl amended.

"Are your friends in Slytherin bad?"

"I..I..I don't really have friends." Now Alana appeared to be on the verge of tears.

"Shh…it's alright. Let me tell you something. When I was in Hogwarts, I didn't think I had friends either. I was shy and very unsure of myself. Professor Snape used to scare me, too, in my first year." Neville smiled. "But then I learned something very important about life. You can't be afraid of people until you truly know them, or what's inside them. Professor Snape may seem harsh, but he is one of the most dependable and strong men you will ever meet. I am glad to call him my friend. And I never would have gotten the chance if I had remained afraid and shy."

"Th..thank you, professor."

"You may go now," Neville told her. He waited until he heard her close the door. "You can come out now, Severus."

"How the bloody hell did you know I was there?" Severus fumed, embarrassed that he had been caught.

The blind man laughed. "Easy, I heard you come in, and I knew it was you because you smell of the last potion you brewed. I'm guessing you're in Harry's old invisibility cloak."

"Not that it works on you," he muttered.

Just then a house elf burst through the door wheezing. "Professors Snape, there's being a firecall for you."

"I'll be there shortly," he told the elf. He turned to Neville. "We'll finish this discussion in my chambers tonight."

Neville gave him a lopsided grin. "I look forward to it."

In his chambers, Severus stared at the floating head of Draco Malfoy. "It's been sometime," he said dryly. "I suspect you need something?"

Draco sighed. "I'm sorry to say that I do, but you have to keep this a secret."

"I'm a former spy, Malfoy. I think I can keep whatever you have for me quiet. Now get on with it, I have other matters to attend to."

He listened in disbelief as Draco told him about Harry. Severus never would have imagined Harry in such a predicament….one of the Weasley boys maybe, but not Harry. "Anyway," Draco continued, "I need you to help me find a way to get it out of his system safely."

"I know of a potion, but he'd still require strict medical observation. We are going to have to bring a few more people in on this."

The younger man looked worried. "Who?"

"Madame Pomfrey, Headmistress Hooch, and Neville Longbottom."

Draco nodded. "I understand Pomfrey and Hooch, but why Longbottom?"

Severus snorted. "Because I am not about to keep secrets from him."

Draco gave him an insufferable grin. "You and Longbottom? I never would have imagined."

"Indeed," he said shortly. "I will owl you when I have things in order. It should take me a day or so."

Severus ran a hand through his hair. He never would have believed the turn of events the past week had brought about. What was next? Fuzzy bunnies in the dungeon? He shuddered. One could only hope it would never come to that.


	19. For You I Will

For You I Will

Morning wasn't coming fast enough. By the time the first rays of dawn were shining in New York, Draco was already feeling like a caged lion. Draco didn't sleep that night. He paced the floor of his bedroom until trying to find what it was that wasn't sitting right with him. In the bathroom, he pulled the bottle of Paxil from his medicine cabinet and dumped the contents down the toilet. He couldn't depend on the pills to fight his battles for him; Harry had shown him that much. But that wasn't entirely what was bothering him either. There was some nameless fear in him.

He made a quick call to Chantay and once again had a row with the sleepy fashion designer. "You don't care about the business," she spat.

"At the moment, you're right. Chantay, the man I love is in trouble right now, and I am not leaving him for anything. Do what you want with the show, I don't give a fuck if you cancel it, but this is more important. Don't you get it?" he asked. All of his frustration was building and he couldn't stop it. "I need him to live anything even resembling a real life. I can't depend on you or the business to make feel alive anymore. I'm sorry, but this is the way it has to be."

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment he wasn't sure if she'd hung up on him. "I understand," she said finally. "Will you ever come back?"

"It all depends on Harry, but I don't think he'll want to go back home again. Chantay, I'll call you when things get settled."

After hanging up the phone, he felt somewhat relieved, but that wasn't what was bothering him either. He stared at the clock and wondered if they would let him in a little early to see Harry. There really wasn't any use sitting at home. But first, he needed to do something.

Opening an ornately carved box, he pulled out three things. His wand sent a familiar feeling down his spine as he grasped it. It had been so long since he touched, but it was the same as it had been three years ago. Second, he picked out a vile of potion that he had brewed years ago, and put it in his pocket with the wand. Lastly, he admired two golden bands that he had purchased just before the final battle. Beautiful script wound around them. _"My soul lives and dies with you, my love." _

Now he was ready, he thought. He came out of the building with a sense of purpose that he had not known in all of the time since that horrible day. The need to be with Harry was overwhelming.

Walking through the hospital halls, he felt a renewed hatred for the place. It almost made him long for the old hospital wing. He cracked a smile, well at least Hogwarts infirmary would feel like home to Harry while he was there. No one in the history of the school spent as much time there as Harry had. Draco distinctly remembered one time after a fall in Quidditch going into the hospital wing and being entranced by the black haired boy as he slept.

Draco stopped mid-step. They couldn't go back. The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. Maybe it wasn't very wise to let others in on this. Maybe he should have waited a bit longer. But then he pictured Harry lying on the floor. No, he had to get help. Severus and Madam Pomfrey were the only two people he trusted enough to let in on this. He had made the right choice, he assured himself. But what would Harry think?

It was true that Snape and Harry had reached a sort of strained peace, thanks to Lupin, but did he truly trust the potions master? So much about Harry had changed in the time since the war. It was nearly impossible for Draco to gauge his reaction. There was only one way to really find out. He strode into Harry's room and found that he had interrupted something between Harry and a stiff looking woman.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said.

The woman slide wire rimmed frames up a bit. "You're Draco Michaels?"

He nodded. "And you are?"

"Myra Blair. I'm a social worker here at the hospital," she said barely looking at him. "James tells me that you will be with him when he leaves, is that correct?"

"Yes it is."

She bristled a bit and glanced at Harry. "I am against this, but it seems since you have promised to seek private treatment and Mr. Michaels will be with you, I will allow it. Someone will be along shortly to sign your release papers."

"Thank you," Harry said from the bed.

The miserable woman said nothing as she strode out of the room. "She was pleasant," Draco commented dryly.

Harry just shrugged. From what Draco could see, he was doing much better. The color had returned to his face and his eyes were more focused.

"Harry, I have something to tell you, and you may not like it."

The raven-haired man snorted. "I don't like a lot of things, but I don't have a fucking choice do I?"

Draco sighed. This was not going to be easy. "In most things, no."

Green eyes locked on him fiercely. "And in this?'

"What you want matters, Harry. But this is something you need."

"You're shipping me off to rehab then?" The words were bitter.

"Not exactly. I contacted Severus."

"You what? How could you do that? I don't want to go back there again, Draco! I won't. Whatever you and Snape are planning, you can just go straight to hell." Harry got out of the bed and picked the bag of his clothes up.

Draco stepped in front of him. "You need help, Harry. Can't you see that you're dying?"

"What if I'd rather die?"

"Doesn't anything matter to you?" Draco cried. He reached to touch Harry, but his hand was slapped away. "You matter to me. Do you remember what you told me that night we first made love?"

"I was a different person then."

"Yes," Draco agreed. "And so am I. Ask Hermione, she'll tell you about it. She's changed, too. Harry, the war was an awful thing, but we survived. If you don't remember, you swore to me that if we made it through that we'd spend our lives together. I'm holding you to that, because I still love you more than life."

Harry looked away. "Go find someone else."

"There is no one else," he said. Draco sighed. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. Pulling out the vile, he opened it and took a drink. "If you choose to die so, do I."

"What the fuck did you drink?" Harry stared at the vile.

"The bonding potion that you wouldn't agree to take before Voldemort was killed," Draco told him calmly. Already he could feel it coursing through him. Very few people ever took this potion. It was the ultimate step in love, and often ended tragically. But Draco would do anything for Harry. "In about five minutes, give or take, I'll die if you don't take the rest of it."

"Fucking moron! Don't you know what will happen even if I do?" Harry was shaking.

"I do," the blonde said with a smile. "We share everything. Pain, joy, dreams, sorrow…everything."

"You have no idea what you have just done," Harry said as he drank the rest of the liquid. "I never wanted you to feel any of this."

Immediately, Draco started to feel ill. His energy diminished and he could feel a strange sort of anxiety build in his stomach. And anger. Anger and betrayal seeped into him. Then something wonderful happened. His love, their love was complete. Under it all, Harry loved him as much as he loved Harry.

Draco felt woozy as he leaned on the bed. He could see the change in Harry too. "Now, there is no turning back."

Harry touched the loose strands of blonde hair falling in front of his lover's face. "No, there isn't, but I'm afraid you'll regret this."

"Never. I only regret not doing it sooner."

He followed Harry's gaze to his crippled arm. "You would have had to have felt it. Lived what I had to."

"But we would have been together."

Collecting himself, Harry sat up and made room for Draco. "What exactly do you and Snape have for me?"

"Snape has a wizarding version of rapid detox for you. The bad news is that you will…or rather now we will have to be under medical supervision. The infirmary at Hogwarts will serve as a private clinic of sorts. He's arranging a way to keep everything under the strictest secrecy. No one will know that you are alive, save a bare handful."

He could feel Harry's leeriness of the situation. "Who knows?"

"Severus, of course. Madame Hooch—who is currently headmistress—Madam Pomfrey, Hermione, Bill Weasley, and Neville Longbottom."

"Why Bill and Neville?"

"Bill and Hermione are together, and he was the one who thought this up. Neville is Snape lover, and Severus refuses to lie to him."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Neville and Snape? How'd that happen? There has to be something cosmically wrong with this picture."

Draco laughed. "I haven't figured it out either. In fact, I haven't seen or heard from Neville since I woke up after the battle. I always did wonder what had happened to him."

"He was kidnapped and brainwashed into loving me," a dry voice said from behind. Severus Snape was dressed in muggle clothing and looking very ominous. "Potter," he said plainly. "Glad to see that you made it through."

A wry smile lit Harry's lips. "There was never any doubt that you were to mean to die."

The dark man nodded. "Now, if you lovers don't mind, I suggest we get going."


	20. For You I Will II

AN PLEASE REVIEW! It keeps me updating quicker when I know there are people reading my fic! To everyone who did review, Thanks YOU ROCK!

For You I Will II

Hermione nuzzled against Bill's bare chest completely contented beneath the covers. For once, she was truly happy again. It was odd, but she had been so unsure when she asked him to stay. Right now, she couldn't imagine why. He made her feel so alive. She wanted to hold onto the feeling as long as she could. A smile crossed her face. Hermione hadn't been acting like herself at all when she'd begged him to take the day off and stay with her, nor was it normal that she had called off work.

"Good morning," he said as he looked down at her. "You know I haven't figured out the exact difference, but it would be the late in the day already in England."

She laughed. "Well obviously you and time don't mix."

"Are you going to Hogwarts to see Harry?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "I don't want to force anything. From what Draco tells me, he's been through quite a trauma."

"Mum is never going to let me hear the end of it when she finds out. Harry always was an honorary Weasley."

Hermione nodded. "It feels so strange to think that he's been alive all this time."

He brought a hand to her cheek. "Are you angry with him?"

Biting her lip, Hermione shook her head. "I was at first, but then again I know Harry. He would never want to see any of us hurt. There has to be more to it than he simply didn't feel like returning. Whatever happened that night must have been terrible. Harry may have been strong, but he was never invincible."

"I always felt sorry for him," Bill said. "He had so much riding on him from the time he learned that he was a wizard. It didn't seem right to me to hang the fate of the world on a child."

The morning went by rather slowly. Neither of the pair made any attempt to leave the bed until well after eleven, and by then a little owl was crashing into the balcony. Cow cooed irritably, as if it was the building's fault for being in his way and then looked up at Hermione. She removed the envelope and blushed.

"It's for you," she said embarrassed.

Bill rolled his eyes. "Yes, well it seems she's caught us like a couple of teenagers." He opened it and sighed. "Well, the good news is mum is having a big dinner this weekend."

"What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is she is expecting me to explain my 'intentions' with you."

Hermione's blush deepened. "And they are?"

His eyes were full of hurt. "You don't know?"

"I..I'm just not sure of much right now. I want to hear it from you."

Bill smiled, and pulled her down on to his lap kissing her hard on the mouth. "I intend to love you for as long as you will let."

"Do you really love me?" she asked. Some little corner of her was still afraid that this was all some sort of dream.

"I do. And I'm going to do my best for you to love me," he told her.

"I do already."

"What?"

She sighed. "I already love you. I'm just so a scared."

"I can be a very patient man. We'll wait until you aren't afraid anymore."

"And then what?" she said swallowing hard. "Then what? I can't give you children, Bill." She began to cry.

"Shhh," he comforted her gently whipping away her tears. "Children are a long way off. When the time is right, we can adopt. That doesn't change the fact that I want to be with you. Any children we have will be ours and that won't change because they were adopted either."

She nodded.

A pop sounded from the living room. This time, Hermione didn't rush out, but simply took her time and dressed.

She saw Severus Snape and a man who vaguely resembled Neville standing in her living room. "You should have owled," she scolded.

Snape's lips thinned. "I'm not here for pleasantries, and the only reason I came to your home at all was because Draco isn't connected to the floo."

"Severus, be nice," the other man said gently. That voice proved that it WAS Neville.

Hermione launched herself into his arms, and nearly knocked him off his feet. "Neville! It's so wonderful to see you. You look marvelous!" She examined him head to toe. Time really had changed him, but something wasn't right.

"I'm glad that we've got this chance to catch up," he said with a smile, but it was odd that he seemed to be looking through her rather than at her.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Oh, Neville. You can't see, can you?"

"No, I can't," he confirmed matter-of-factly. "I'm alright with that, though."

"Can we get on with it?" Snape snapped rather annoyed. "I'm going to go get Harry and Draco. The sooner we start the sooner we finish."

By now Bill had joined the group somewhat awkwardly. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

The potions professor merely raised a black brow. "Go to Diagon Alley and pick up a few things for me, if you're so eager." He turned to Neville. "Why don't you stay here and I'll be back soon."

Neville nodded. "If that's alright with you, Hermione?"

"That's fine. I've missed you," she said.

Bill accepted the list from Severus and kissed Hermione before disappearing. It was a few precious moments later when Severus stepped from the bathroom in muggle clothing looking miserable…or rather more miserable than usual. "I have the directions to the hospital that Draco gave me. He told me to take a cab and that you would loan me the fare."

Hermione laughed. How like Draco! She handed him a few bills and explained the denominations to him. "There's a man at the door that will hail a taxi for you."

He nodded. "I warned you that this would be dull," Severus told his lover.

Hermione was taken aback by the tenderness in his voice.

"And I told you, that it was fine," Neville countered.

After Snape was gone, Hermione suddenly felt a bit odd. She wasn't sure what help, if any she should offer to Neville. "Would you care to sit and have some tea?" she offered.

He smiled. "That would be nice. Would you mind leading the way?"

Hermione let him take her arm and led him through the spacious apartment. "This has been quite a hectic time recently."

"Right," Neville agreed. "What have you been doing with yourself before this? I know Draco is in fashion now."

Grateful for the change in conversation, she sat beside him and handed him a cup. "I've been working with Draco. Nothing all that exciting."

"And I'm assuming you're with Bill now?"

Was she? They really hadn't talked about it much. "I am," she said finally. It felt amazing to say that. There was no more confusion on the matter. She was with the man she loved. For the second time in her life, Hermione was blessed. "You and Severus?"

The smile on his face was radiant. "We just started seeing each other. It isn't serious yet."

From what she had seen of the two, that was debatable, but she didn't dispute it. And his choice of words did striker her as odd. "How did you two end up together?"

"Well, I'm teaching at Hogwarts and things just seemed to happen once we were together again."

"You're teaching at Hogwarts?" She winced at how rude that sounded, and tried to amend it. "I mean, I didn't know that you had any interest in teaching."

Thankfully, he chuckled as though he didn't mind. "I teach history. Never fear, I won't accidentally hex any students." The humor dimmed a bit as he added, "despite what the ministry might think."

"What do you mean?"

Neville sighed. "It's a long story. Basically, the ministry thinks that I am incompetent due to my blindness. They sent a long list of restrictions for me to the school last evening."

"Oh, that's terrible!"

Brushing off the subject, Neville took a sip of tea. "I'm surprised that you didn't stay to teach."

"I wasn't ready to face the wizarding world without Ron."

"And now?"

Hermione closed her eyes and remembered the scene from a few hours ago. "I'm ready to go wherever he is."


	21. For You I Will III

For You I Will III

Severus had just taken Draco and Harry to the infirmary. His mood was still as dark as it had been when they'd gotten that shit letter the night before. The ministry was had no right to dictate Neville's life, but there was not much he could do about it. He thought back to how crestfallen Neville had looked when he'd shown Severus the letter. They'd all but demanded his wand.

When he went into the dungeons, he found that Neville was not there, nor was he in his own room. Muttering a string of foul cuss words, Severus began to climb to the top of the astronomy tower. He saw his lover leaning against the wall with his face turned toward the sky. "I knew you'd be here," he said to the younger man.

Neville turned toward him and smiled. "Am I that predictable already?"

"You have your habits," Severus said with a sigh. "You know you shouldn't give a damn what they say. We'll find a way to fight it."

Neville shook his head. "How are Harry and Draco?" 

"Fine. I still can't believe the stupidity of that potion business. I'll have to give them both the detoxifying potion in the morning. Will you go visit them?"

"When they're feeling better."

Severus slid his hand around Neville's waist and pulled the slightly shorter man to him. "The stars are out tonight," he said softly, and this time it was no lie. "There isn't a cloud in the sky and moon is so bright that it's bouncing off the snow."

"Beautiful," his lover commented as he brought Snape's hands to his lips. "You know I think the main reason I was such a nightmare in potions was that I was always watching your hands and not what you were adding to the brew."

"If I would have known, I would have bloody well worn gloves. Do you have any idea how many caldrons you ruined?"

Neville laughed. "I lost count after third year."

"Yes, well I didn't. You completely annihilated twenty-four of them. That will always impress me about you," he quipped as he began to kiss the bare bit of Neville's neck. The chill of the night combined with the passion he was feeling made Severus shiver. "Let's go inside."

In his chambers, Severus poured them each a glass of red wine. Sitting down beside Neville, he took in the pensive look on his face. "Do you think I'm good at this?" the blind man asked seriously. 

"You haven't been at it long, but it seems you have a knack for it. The ministry can fuck off. Rolanda and I will back you on this," he promised.

"But let's face it, without Dumbledore there isn't a snowballs chance in hell that I'll get out of these ridiculous restrictions. Which by the way, I am surprised I didn't get a warning for using the translating charm on the letter they sent me. The use of magic is strictly forbidden unless supervised by no less than three trained wizards," Neville mocked.

"What do you want to do?"

The light haired man shook his head. "I haven't a clue. This is all so degrading. I spent three years learning how to function again. Three years at the university. I nearly got my muggle degree in education, but I decided to come here and teach. Now I wonder if it was the right decision."

"You're going to give up so easily? I keep telling you, fuck the ministry. We'll fight this!" Severus barked. "Those bloody morons don't know you. They've no idea what you are capable of."

Neville nodded. "I'll try, Severus, but if it doesn't work. I may go back to the muggle world. I can't live my life being utterly useless, and that is exactly what that little document makes me."

"Then we'll go together." Snape was just as shocked as Neville was by that statement, but he couldn't deny that he meant it.

"But you've been here for twenty years!"

Severus sighed. "I made a mistake when I let Remus go, and I will not repeat it. His death taught me exactly what I should hold onto."

Neville smiled at him. "I love you."

Now that caught Snape off guard. He wasn't sure how to react so he merely kissed the man passionately. It wasn't the right time for him to cross that bridge just yet.

They made love well into the early morning and when Neville crept out of the room, Severus was left to mull over things on his own. Neville had been right about not having a chance without Dumbledore. Barring Harry's return to the wizarding world, he didn't have connections to anyone who would be able to have that much sway on the ministries dealings. There simply weren't that many disabled wizards, and when there was an issue, it was easily swept aside. For all the wonder in this world, there was not much room for tolerance. Hadn't Remus proved that? Was it right to talk Neville into that kind of futile fight?

The muggle world. Severus grimaced at the thought. His few dealings with muggles had not been good. The Dursleys were almost enough to sour him on the whole lot of them. But if Neville could be accepted there more easily, maybe it would be worth it. He certainly wouldn't miss many people if he left.

The sun was up too soon and he had to administer the first round of potions to Draco and Harry. Rolanda had assured him that his classes would be covered for the day. He had left a reading assignment long enough to keep them busy. Stalking down the halls, he thought of all the things he wanted to say to that bloody Gryffindor when he was out of this mess. There certainly was a great deal of unfinished business between them.

In the infirmary, he found Poppy staring wistfully at the pair entwined in a single bed. The scene was so perfectly lovely that it made him ill. He hoped that he and Neville at least had a little more dignity when they were together, but something in him told him that it was not so. "Can't we let them rest a little longer?" Poppy sighed.

"It's best to get it done with. You know how badly this will effect them. It was going to be rough enough on Potter alone, and now Malfoy has tossed himself into the mix." He shook Draco gently. "Time to get up."


	22. Author's Note

First I just want to appologize for being a pain in the ass like this, but due to circumstances that I don't want to get into, this story will be on hold indefinitely. I will NOT concent to letting anyone else finish/adopt this fic, as I DO intend to finish if there is enough interest. However, that may be a while. There are just a few things that I want to take care of before this fic. Thank you for reading! I appreciate all of the support you have given me. And I WILL be back.

Love always,

Hakkai's Lady

PS this doesn't include any other stories I'm working on


	23. By Your Side

An Sorry for the delay in updates! This takes place slightly before the last chap. Hang on folks this is going to be a long one!

By Your Side

Draco could feel the pain and sadness radiating from Harry as they followed Snape down the familiar halls of Hogwarts. Memories flashed in his mind of all of the times he had tormented Harry in this place. He regretted it, but there was no changing the past. Beside him, the dark haired man stared directly at the floor. Squeezing Harry's good hand, he earned a fake smile and a kiss on his palm. "If it's the only way," he told Draco.

The emotions that traveled between them were still rather disorienting. While they couldn't read each other's minds, they were subject to the same moods and sensations. In essence, what Harry was going through was now entering into Draco. Severus had gone off for nearly an hour when he found out what Draco had done. They would both have to be given the same treatment, and while he hadn't gone into detail, Severus let them know that it would not be pleasant. Unlike muggle rapid detox, however, this would be permanent. Harry would be free from all cravings for the drug for the rest of his life. Draco could see that Harry accepted this, but was still reluctant to go through with it. In fact, Draco doubted that he'd do it at all if it weren't for the bonding.

They hadn't made it two steps into the infirmary when a plump woman latched onto Harry. Tears were rolling down her aged cheeks. Madame Pomfrey had come to think of Harry as a son in the time he had spent in the hospital wing. "Thank God, you're alive. I've missed you so much," she cried. "But why would you scare us like that?"

Harry sighed. "I've missed you, too. Someday, I'll tell the whole story, I promise, but not now."

"Fair enough," she agreed. "Professor Snape tells me that you're in a bit of trouble. We'll fix you up in no time."

Harry dropped his head a little. "Thank you."

Shame. Draco could feel it echoing through Harry's entire being. It had never really occurred to him that Harry would have anything to be ashamed of, but now he saw it in full effect. The boy who lived had lost his shine. He wasn't the golden child he had been when they left Hogwarts. The hope of the wizarding world was crippled and addicted. He lived in a slum that didn't reflect the money he had in Gringotts and barely resembled the free boy who had once chased the snitch. This wasn't the triumphant hero that everyone had wanted. Now, Draco had shame of his own. He was ashamed that he hadn't seen it sooner.

Snape gave him an unreadable look and nodded as if he knew something that maybe even Draco didn't. "You two had better rest. Tomorrow will not be easy."

He left them with nothing more than that. Madame Pomfrey pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead and then said her goodbyes for the evening. They watched as the pair closed the door behind them.

There were only single beds in the infirmary and Draco began to push two side by side. "Do you mind?" he asked nervously when he saw how intently Harry was watching him. "I don't mean to rush you. We don't have to do anything, but I'd just like to be close to you."

"I understand. It's alright."

Feeling intensely awkward, Draco decided to change into his pajamas. He'd picked up a few of his own things and some of the things that he had bought for Harry. The thought of him wearing those dirt crusted sweats anymore made Draco's skin crawl. Handing Harry a set of emerald silk pajamas, Draco realized how ridiculously presumptuous he'd been all along. "Harry?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Those amazing eyes locked into his eyes. "For what?"

"I've been an ass. What I wanted wasn't so wrong, but how I've done things has been. Can you believe that I honestly only wanted the best for you? Somehow, I had myself convinced that I had it all worked out," he admitted.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know what to make of it all yet. I love you, Draco, but the rest…" his words trailed off and he shrugged. "I know you want to hear that I'm completely at ease with what's happened, but I can't say that yet. I'll try, that's all I can promise."

"That's all I ask," Draco told him honestly. 

"We should sleep," Harry said blankly.

He began to shed his shirt, and Draco nearly gasped. Scars cut jagged paths down Harry's pale body, and every bone in his body jutted out crudely. The toned and tanned body he had seen years ago was gone, just as gone as the perfect face that he had seen in the mirror. They truly were no longer the boys they had been. The war had broken them in more ways than he could count, but he still had hope for the future.

It was rude, but he was suddenly staring as Harry slid on the pants and ignored the top despite the chill in the room. "Did you pack any t-shirts?" he asked Draco.

"I can button it for you if that's the problem," Draco offered feeling stupid for buy him so a many button down shirts.

Harry looked away. "A t-shirt is fine."

Without another word, they finished getting ready and each crawled into a bed. Neither of them moved the covers to get closer. In the darkness, the both could feel one another's tension. It ran through them like nothing else. Frustration. Hurt. Anger. All of it was shared. Draco shut his eyes, but he couldn't fall into anything even remotely like sleep and he knew Harry was the same. "This isn't working," he said.

"No, it isn't. Does my body disgust you that badly?"

Draco bolted upright in bed. "My God! How could you think that?"

"I didn't think it," Harry spat. "Thanks to you, I felt it."

"I wasn't disgusted at you. I was disgusted at me! And how could you look at me and think that I would judge your scars? Do you know that I spent years staring at the mirror thinking how you would never have wanted me 'if you were alive?' I love you, Harry. Don't you see that you could never disgust me?" Draco flicked his wand and the room lit up.

"Not just the scars. Everything—my arm, the drugs, and how I can't even do magic anymore." Harry's gaze was cutting through him. "Don't you think I'd go back if I could? I can think of a thousand things I would change, but I can't."

"What would you change?" Draco asked, silently begging that it wouldn't be their relationship.

"I would have found some way to save them all."

The statement caught Draco off guard. "It wasn't your fault Harry."

"Wasn't it? It was all my stupid pride. I should have never fooled myself that we'd all get through this just fine, and I drug them all with me." Harry stood and shivered. "I can still see them all die in my head."

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. "Harry, it was a war. You are one man don't think that you could have saved everyone. You are human. Boy-who-lived or not, they had no right to make you think that you were all that stood between them and death. "

"But they had faith in me!"

"Harry, you can't take responsibility for their deaths. Do you think they would want you to suffer this way?"

"I don't know anything anymore."

Draco put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I know for a fact that none of them would want you to blame yourself."

The dark haired man shuddered. "Will you think that in the morning?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"We share dreams. You will have to suffer through my nightmares!"

The blonde shook his head. "I love you. Do you know what it was like without you? I wasn't really alive. I just went through the motions of life. If I have to deal with pain, I will because I know that there will be love too."

Sad eyes met his. "I love you, too. But for tonight…" his gaze drifted to the bottle of dreamless sleep potion setting on a table at the end of the room.

"For tonight," Draco agreed. He poured the amounts for both of them and handed Harry his. "If this is what it takes."

They fell asleep tangled together. Even in the dreamless oblivion, Draco felt Harry's presence. It was warm and comforting, letting him know that there was still something good in the world. This was what had been missing from his life. He knew that he could never let go now, not after feeling whole again. They would work through whatever would come tomorrow.

A rough hand shook Draco's shoulder, and he looked into Snape's eyes. "Time to get up."

Beside him, Harry moved to get his glasses. "So we begin the fun today?" he said sarcastically.

Snape nodded. "This is going to be one of the worst things you've ever experienced, but it will be over in under an hour."

"What will it do?" Draco asked. He pushed the hair out of his face. It was impossible for him to tell if the butterflies in his stomach were his or Harry's.

"The potion makes you relieve the demons that drove you to the substance and then removes the need for it. It's going to feel like you are walking through a nightmare emotionally. Physically, every nerve in your body will scream out with the worst kind of pain you can imagine. All in all, it will be hell," he explained. From anyone else, Draco would have thought that it was an exaggeration, but he knew that wasn't Snape's style.

Draco nodded. "Are you ready?" he asked Harry.

Harry's face was blank, but he couldn't hide his fear from his lover. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Severus gave them each a spoonful of putrid tasting black liquid. Instantly, Draco fell to the bed in a spasm of pain. Absolute agony in every cell of his being made it hard to look at Harry. As soon as the pain came so did the memories.

The shriek of horror ringing through the air was not his own. A woman with red hair fell to the ground in a pool of her own blood before an evil looking figure. On the floor not far from her was a mangled corpse of a man. He realized that these were Harry's parents. A baby cried from the crib. NO! Draco wanted to protect the child, but he already knew what happened. In a flash of light, Voldemort disappeared and so did the room.

The sky opened up into an expanse of black. Laughter. He knew that sound. Lucious. Draco saw his own younger form lying nude in a heap on the ground. Dragging him up by his hair, a masked Death Eater began to slide the tip of a knife down his body. He could feel Voldemort's amusement. This was why Harry didn't return.

Flash. Remus was lying before him in Snape's arms. His intestines were visible though the gaping whole in his stomach. Blood poured from his lips. "Stay with me, Remy!" Severus begged. "You can't die yet! I'll save you."

Long pale hands lingered over the wound covered in thick blood. Remus' pale face contorted in pain as he convulsed. His lips trembled. For a brief moment, it appeared he tried to say something, but then amber eyes went dull.

Flash. "Leave her alone!" Ron screamed.

"Such a good brother," Lucious said smoothly as Ginny struggled in his arms. Voldemort's joy at hearing the girl's neck snap was sicken.

"No!" 

Her body fell like a rag doll.

Ron lunged at Lucious, but fell like a stone his chest blown wide open. He didn't have a chance to realize what had happened to him.

Flash. McGonagall.

Flash. Charlie

Flash. Tonks body hit the floor with a thud after falling from the floor above.

Flash. Seamus sputtered as a spike was thrust through his throat.

Flash. Dumbledore's blue eyes were dead. The sparkle entirely gone as he stared at the dark lord. "It has come to this," the old man said. "You know how it will all end."

"Do I? You still have faith in the child, but soon it won't matter how your little order squirms," Voldemort hissed.

"You underestimate them."

"Oh, they will stumble and fall without you."

Cloaked figures closed in on him, but Dumbledore didn't flinch. Even as their knives were drawn, there wasn't an ounce of fear in him.

Flash. He stared into red eyes. "Harry Potter! This is how you die!"

Harry screamed in pain. The flesh of his arm was being burned away, and the want in his hand was incinerated. "I hate you!"

"Good. Then you will carry that hatred with you to the depths of Hell. You have stopped me from cleansing this world! You nearly destroyed me, but now you will pay with your life," Voldemort said. His power was expanding infinitely as he absorbed Harry's magic. All the while, he smiled knowing that he was giving Harry all of his old memories. This was the best way to destroy him. This was the way to end it. Give the pure one all of the evil that he feared.

Harry's eyes glowed. Something about him was changing. "NO!" Emerald light engulfed them both. "This is over!"

Now all that was left was the bloodied body of Harry Potter as he laid in the field. The tall grass around him was stained dark red.

"Oh my God!" A woman called as she got out of her car and raced over to him.

The real world flooded in. Draco felt the sweat falling from his face. It hurt to move, but he reached for Harry who was pale as a ghost. "It's done. You're safe now," he told him.

Harry looked like a child as he began to cling to Draco. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay." He kissed Harry deeply. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

Draco smiled. Now they could build a life together. The chasm between them had been bridged. He would stay with Harry for the rest of his life and never regret it. His heart told him that much and more that he would show Harry in time.


	24. By Your Side II

Scratches head Well, Alex, that wasn't exactly the end yet. Sorry you think I turned the story "crappy." Hope the next FEW chapters make up for it.

By Your Side II

Bill hadn't listened to Hermione when she begged him to not take his vacation time for this. He insisted on staying with her, and now she was a little glad for that fact. It made her a stronger to know that he cared enough to come with her to Hogwarts. Closing the drawer, she couldn't help but glance at the mirror on the wall. The woman in the glass looked back at her, not the schoolgirl, and the freckled face beside hers was not Ron's. "Feeling nervous?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "I still don't have a clue what I'll say to him."

"It will come to you," he assured her. "You'll think of it when you see him."

"It feels so strange still. You know I always thought it would be the three of us. It's going to be different to be around Harry without Ron."

"If you really want me to go…" Bill began.

"No," Hermione said firmly as she wrapped herself around him. "I want you here."

He chuckled. "Good because I want to be here for you."

A harsh knock at the door interrupted the pair. Hermione opened the door to find Serverus standing there with a weary look on his face. "Are you ready?" he asked irritably.

Hermione nodded and turned to Bill. "Do you want to come?"

"No," he said. "This is your time."

"All ready," she said staring at the floor.

It didn't seem like she breathed at all as she walked a step behind the potions master. By the time she stepped in to the sitting room where Harry and Draco were waiting, her heart was in her throat. For a long time, the friends stared at each other. The last time they had seen each other, they had been children, but time had changed them both. She couldn't believe how thin Harry was, and she could see her own disbelief mirrored in his eyes.

In an instant, they were locking in an embrace. Her tears fell freely onto his shoulder. Part of her was afraid to let go, for fear that he would disappear if she did. "Harry," she sobbed.

He pushed her back for a moment and stared at her. Lifting a hand to her straight hair. "This is a change, Hermione," he said trying to suppress the emotion.

"Prat," she cried, "is that all you can say?"

He laughed. "It's good to see you again, Mione," he told her and kissed her cheek.

She clung to him again. "This feels like a dream. I just can't believe you're alive."

"Believe it," Draco chimed in.

Hermione had actually forgotten that he was there. Letting go of Harry, she hugged Draco. "I'm glad to see you got him back."

"And I don't intend to ever let go," he said sincerely as he looked at the raven haired boy. Hermione could see the love between them.

She settled herself in the chair facing the loveseat. "How are you both feeling?"

Harry shrugged. "Still a little disoriented."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, you should expect that after all or the potions you two have ingested in the past few days."

Harry let out a deep hearty laugh. "I've missed that tone of voice."

Sniffing indignantly, she shook her head. "Some things never change."

"And some things have, no matter what we wanted," Harry added sadly.

As if he knew his lover's mind—which he might, given the bonding potion—Draco stood. "I'm going to go torment Snape for a bit." He kissed Harry on the lips and then placed a brotherly peck on Hermione's cheek. The look in his eyes said "go easy on him."

When Draco was gone, Hermione stared at the floor. "It wasn't you fault, Harry."

"Everyone says that, " he said.

"But you don't believe it," she finished. Hermione moved to the seat beside him, and held his crippled hand in hers. "Why?"

He looked steadily at her. "His friendship with me cost him his life, and Ginny's life. If it wasn't for the fact that Voldemort thought I was with Ginny, they would be alive. I should have known that it was too dangerous to have friends," he spat out. "And you, Hermione….I thought you had died too. I thought that being my friend had killed you."

"Oh, Harry, you are so wrong. Ron…all of the Weasley's would have entered the fight whether you had been his friend or not, and me too. Do you think we all could have sat back and let him do whatever he pleased? Killing whoever?"

"But…"

"No," she interrupted. "Think about it, Harry. You needed us and we needed you. We did it together, and it wouldn't have ended if we hadn't. You were meant to kill him, and we were meant to help you get that far. Don't you see?"

"You don't blame me?"

"Never. Lucius killed my husband, not you."

Harry sighed heavily. "I still don't know if I will ever be able to face any of the Weasley's."

"Stop being such a coward," she snapped. It wasn't until that moment that she was really angry at him. "You owe that to Molly for all of the love she gave you over the years."

Harry looked stunned.

"Besides," she continued, "you're coming to my wedding and they will all be there."

"Wedding?" he asked.

"Bill and I are in love," she explained.

A smile spread across his face. Now, he looked like the boy she remembered. "When?"

"Oh, we haven't actually gotten engaged yet," Hermione admitted. "But he told me that he intends to make me want to marry him."

"Does he know he already did that?"

Hermione giggled. "I think so."

Harry sobered a bit. "Do you think we can really all be happy?"

"I know we can," she answered firmly. "And I'm always right."

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That night in bed, Hermione laid awake beside Bill. The afterglow of their love still shown on her face. "I love you," she told him.

He kissed her. "Then my plan is working," he teased.

"It is. I never knew you were a master strategist until now."

Taking her hand, he laughed. "Don't give me too much credit."

"You deserve all the credit in the world. Without you, I would never have been this happy again," she told him. Hermione gathered her courage. "Bill, will you marry me?"

He shot up in bed. "Did you just propose?"

She nodded. "I did."

"This is rather quick….not that I'm against it," he added hastily. "But are you sure?"

"I love you, and I am," she told him.

"I love you, Hermione, and I want to be your husband." He chuckled. "There go my grand proposal plans."

Hermione grinned at him. "You can still keep them. I promise to pretend to be surprised."

"Just don't let my mother get wind of this, or she'd smack me for letting you beat me to it."

She kissed him passionately on the lips, and pulled him between her legs. This man made her as happy as she had ever been. It amazed her that she could be so lucky twice in one lifetime. Her world was now complete again.


	25. By Your Side III

I'm BACK! I've finally gotten over the post baby blues and can write again! Sorry for the delays.

By Your Side III

Severus looked up from his own stack of papers to watch Neville's fingers gliding across an essay. It was a point of annoyance and frustration for them both that Severus had been forced to do the translating charm for him. He could see the resentment on Neville's usually jovial face. The ministry's regulations were already taking their toll on him. Even the students noticed the change in their favorite professor. He'd heard Alana's timid voice asking another student what had happened to Professor Longbottom. Even safe in the sanctuary of Neville's chambers, they didn't dare discuss the futility of the situation. In fact, at the moment it seemed better to say nothing at all. Severus almost welcomed the silence.

Between Harry's reappearance and the ministry's stupidity, he was stretched as thin as he possibly could be. The pair down the hall at least were making progress. They seemed to be healthy enough when he had seen them before their meeting with Granger. In fact, it had taken a good bit of persuasion and threats from Poppy to get them back into bed….separate beds. Severus expected that they would be fully recovered in a day or two, and then they would be back in New York. But before they left, Severus had business to attend to with Harry.

"I'm going for a walk," he told Neville as he stood.

Neville set down the paper and nodded. "Boring you already am I?"

"Of course, and that's why I force myself to spend my every free moment with you."

The blind man grinned. "Exactly what I thought."

The halls of Hogwarts were quiet, even though it was still early in the evening. He opened the door to his room and placed a shrinking spell on the chest containing Harry's things. It would stand to reason that the boy would like to have them back, and Severus surely didn't want any of it. Then he went over to another chest. This one was where he kept most of his keepsakes from Remus. Shuffling some of it around, he found what he had been looking for. The picture of the Marauders, save Pettigrew who had been magically removed from the photograph. Severus smiled at the trio, or rather at the youthful werewolf in the center. He sighed. His world had certainly been turned on its head these past few weeks.

In the secret room they shared, the happily reunited couple sat playing wizard's chess. Draco was deep in thought when Severus entered, but Harry saw him straight away. "It appears you're saved," he told the blond.

Draco smiled at the potions master. "Come to check on us?"

Severus shook his head. "I'd like a word with Harry if you can spare him."

"Right," Draco said. He kissed Harry's cheek. "Play nice. I'll be back in a bit."

A long moment passed before either man spoke. Severus sat down on the sofa, and pulled the shrunken chest pocket. "I assumed you would want this back," he said. "It's all there and safe. Your pictures, your cloak, and you broom."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly.

"There was something I wanted to ask you," he began. "Why did you leave the cloak to me?"

Harry shrugged. "I was never certain that I would beat him. If I died, I thought that perhaps it would be able to help you with your spying."

"You told Remus that you had no doubts."

"I lied. I believe you told Remus that you had faith in me, but that was a lie as well," he pointed out.

"I have faith in no one," Snape told him honestly. "Not even myself, Harry. Your mother was one of the finest witches I have ever known, and she was no match for him. So many strong wizards fell. I didn't think it was right to hide behind a child. They had no right to make you face their fears."

"I understand that now. There's so much that I've realized in these past three years, that I don't think I knew much of anything before." Harry stood and walked over to the window. "Hermione tells me that you've started seeing Neville."

He was avoiding all of the subjects that they should be talking about, and Severus knew if, but for the moment he played along. "I have."

"I never would have imagined that. It's even more unlikely than Draco and I," he added. "You despised him in school."

"I despise incompetence of any kind. It's only recently been brought to light why he was such a bloody nightmare."

Harry nodded. "Hermione told me about that too."

Severus could see the unasked question in Harry's eyes. _"Why did you hate me so much?" _He sighed deeply. "I didn't hate you for the reason you think…well, at least not entirely," he began. "Remus never told you, did he?"

"He told me that you had things in your past that made it hard to accept me."

That was something Remus would say alright. "Harry, I cared about you mother. You could say I loved her more than I had loved anyone until I fell for Remus. Our seventh year, you mother and I had a bit of a romance. Your father knew nothing about it. In fact, she told me that she was going to leave James for me at graduation, but something unexpected happened. Lily came to me with the news that she was pregnant"

Harry's eyes were large. "Did she know for sure I was his?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Of course she did. I never slept with your mother. "

The boy shook his head. "She must have loved him. My mum wouldn't have married him if she didn't."

"I know that she did," the older man said. "And that was why I really hated him, and you. Remus made me realize how bloody stupid it all was, but by then there was the war, and I never got to tell you."

Harry sunk down into the armchair across from him. "I miss him."

"So do I."

"In my worst nightmares, I keep seeing him die all over again. I see them all die," Harry said shakily.

"You and I aren't that different. I know what it is to have horrible images in your head that you can't escape. It used to wake me in the middle of night. I'd see him lying in my arms choking on his blood, and I'd sit up in bed until morning trying to will it away." Severus looked away.

"I can't stop it."

"No, you can't," the older man agreed. "But you can accept that it happened, and that your world will never be what it was."

"I know that it won't, but sometimes I think that it would have been better if he'd killed me."

Severus nodded. He knew all too well how truly twisted Voldemort was. "Perhaps, but that means that he got what he wanted. He wanted to destroy you, Harry. Killing you wouldn't have been half as enjoyable for him. You know that, though."

"I want to fight him," Harry said softly.

"Then be happy, and for god sakes fuck Draco before you kill him."

An impish grin crossed the young man's face. He almost resembled the boy he had been three years ago. "What about you and Neville?"

"I can assure you that lack of sex hasn't been an issue."

"Remus would be happy about that."

"I suppose he would be."

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Severus didn't waste anytime in getting to bed that evening. With Neville's warm body against his, he knew what he had to do. "Neville?"

"I'm awake," he answered groggily.

"How does New York strike you?"

Neville shot up in bed. "What?"

"When the term's over, why don't we move to New York. I'm sure Draco and Harry could give us some idea how to adapt to muggle life. You could finish your degree."

"But what about you? Your potions are your life?"

Severus put a hand on Neville's cheek. "This isn't the place for you. I won't see you burnt out by those bastards at the ministry."

"No," Neville said as he got out the bed. "You can't give up your life for me."

"What life? I teach bloody brats day in and day out," Snape mumbled.

"But you're happy here?"

"Am I? Two men have made me happy in my life. I was fucking miserable without Remus, and I'll be fucking miserable with out you. In case you haven't noticed, I'm in love with you, you moronic Gryffindor."

Neville smiled. "I was beginning to suspect."

"I suspect you should get your arse back in bed," Severus grumbled.

The younger man slid under the sheets and rolled over pinning the potions master beneath him. Hours at the gym hadn't been wasted. A smile twisted Severus' lips as he lowered his hand over Neville's stomach. "Roll over for me," Neville told him huskily. His hands followed the slender lines of Severus' back followed by silken kisses down the entire length. When he finally made his entry, both men were ready for.


	26. Beautiful Soul

AN I am soooo close to finishing. I have two more chaps and an epilogue to finish up on here and then I am probably going to take a break form HP fics. HPB broke my stride on this one.

Beautiful Soul

Harry was beautiful in his sleep. Draco realized that the only reason he had any peace tonight was that he was far too exhausted to dream. The past two nights, he had been plagued by the same nightmares that Harry faced. He knew now why his lover had not come back. The hopelessness was too much for even the strongest heart. Somewhere along the line, every strand of will had been broken, but that did not make him weak. It made him human. He was the boy who had lived his life with the expectations and fears of an entire culture resting on his shoulders, and when it all came down, it crushed him in the process. Now it was time to build him back up.

The pair had flooed into Hermione's apartment that morning and hadn't stopped since. They made a tearful visit to Beth's home where they were nearly smothered to death by the older woman. She had insisted they stay for dinner. The highlight of the evening came when Beth asked if Harry would come back to work for her. Draco knew how much it meant to Harry that she was trusting him again. He had hoped Harry would join in on all the fun at the design company, but he knew that independence was what Harry wanted more than anything.

Draco reached out and began to caress the back of Harry's lame hand. It was so wonderful to be able to touch him again, to know that he really was there.

The dark haired man groaned. "Tickles," he mumbled.

"You can feel that?" Draco asked with a laugh.

Harry shrugged. "Some, it's nothing really distinct, but I can tell you touching my hand."

Draco gently kissed the palm of the hand in question. "Shall I kiss it back to life then?"

Harry let out a husky laugh. "Why not spread them around a bit? I can think of other places I'd like that mouth of yours."

Complying to that request, Draco began kissing along Harry's collarbone working his way to his nipples. He began to carefully tease each bud. "More?" He asked playfully.

"Oh God, yes!"

A smile came across Draco's face that made his scars disappear by comparison. This was what he had been waiting for. He took his time kissing and caressing each inch of Harry's body as he made his way down. His rewards came in the form of shivers and moans. Each one only made him want it more. He enjoyed every second of sucking Harry's cock. "Stop," Harry moaned. "Let me inside of you."

Draco wasted no time lubing them both up and turning over. The bonding allowed them to share every sensation. Pure pleasure coursed through them. Their heart beats almost matched perfectly as they came again and again as the night wore on. It was erotic beyond their wildest dreams. When they could go no longer, they simply laid there wrapped in each other's arms.

"There's something I have to do tomorrow," Harry said suddenly. "Will you come with me?"

"Mmmm…where?" Draco asked yawning.

"I want to go to the Burrow."

Draco was mildly shocked by that. He hadn't thought Harry was ready for that just yet. "I'll go," he agreed. "I think it's wonderful that you're going to let them know that you're alive."

Harry didn't say anymore and was asleep with in minutes.

The next morning, Draco was out of bed first and began cooking a large breakfast for them. It was painfully obvious that Harry had been skipping way to many meals. True, he had never seen Harry anything close to what could be deemed the proper weight, but currently he was unhealthily emaciated. He smiled when he thought back to the first time he saw Harry.

When he saw the dark haired boy for the first time, he had been smitten from the moment he noticed those gorgeous green eyes. At the time, he hadn't realized exactly what those feelings were yet. It was impossible to tell why his stomach fluttered the way it did when approached him. His own rudeness cost him Harry's friendship that day, but it wasn't something that he had even realized was wrong. From birth, Lucius had instilled in him the qualities that he found to be desirable. It was no lie that Draco had no inkling of what it was to love or be loved, or even to be a friend. After being rejected and having those fluttery feelings melt away into embarrassment and pain, he steeled away anything he felt at all besides his anger and hate. But Harry had managed to save him from that.

Mostly, he had blocked out the memories of the things that had been done to him when he refused the dark mark. Somehow, he pushed himself out of his own mind during that night, and went into a sort of oblivion of his own. Waking up, he found himself staring in those eyes that had once turned away from him. This time was different. This time Harry stayed by his side. He was so gentle and yet had an iron will when it came to getting Draco out of his funk. Harry taught him what friendship was, brought him into the fold of the Order. He even managed to help him and Ron burry the hatchet and become friends. Every good thing in his life led back to one thin, green-eyed boy.

"What are you smiling about?" a groggy voice asked from behind. Harry stood in the door way in nothing but a pair of boxers.  
The blonde shook his head. "Nothing. I hope you're hungry."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. There was more food on the table than ten people could eat let alone the two of them.

"Molly taught me to cook," Draco explained with a sheepish grin. "Besides, you need to put on weight."

"That explains a lot," the dark haired man said cryptically. "You never used to be this…this…never mind."

Draco frowned. "No, finish it."

"Motherly." Smiling, Harry kissed Draco's pale forehead just where the scars began.

The morning went by rather lazily. Neither of them really wanted to break the simply domesticity they had going. It was strange, but that almost meant more than anything. Being together with nothing hanging over their heads, with no fear, with no secrets between them was like a dream. Oh, that wasn't to say that they had forgotten the pain, but they had something to look forward to now.

By the time Harry was ready to go to the Burrow, it was just before dinnertime in England. Draco apparated them both to just outside the cozy little house, and stood there for a long moment waiting for Harry to make his move. The brunette had a death grip on Draco's arm. "It's too soon," he said softly. "Why don't we wait a few days?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I have to do this."

The stubborn man walked toward the door and raised his hand to knock. When the door opened, he was standing face to face with Arthur Weasley for the first time in three years. "Harry," the balding man breathed. Emotion shown in his kind eyes. "Come in."

"I…" Harry began.

"She's in the kitchen. We'll talk later," Arthur said.

Harry nodded and moved into the little kitchen with Draco only a step behind. Molly Weasley was standing at the stove stirring a pot of stew. She turned when she heard the new footsteps, and then it seemed time had stopped. No one moved or even took a breath for what seemed like forever. Slowly, the older woman began to move forward. "Harry, is that really you?" she asked.

All Harry could do was nod. That was all it took for Molly to launch herself at Harry and wrap him in an ironclad hug. Returning the embrace, tears flooded his eyes. Molly, who was crying as well, pushed him away to get a better look at him and then pulled him tight again. She did this one more time, but this time, she held him at arms length for a moment. Though she didn't say anything, her lips moved as though she were giving a silent little prayer. Then, a CRACK filled the room. Harry stood there still as stone before raising a hand to the cheek that she had slapped. He had no time to do more as he was once again in loving arms.

"Don't you EVER do that again! I thought I'd lost you like everyone else. Do you hear me? Don't you ever just disappear again!" she cried.

"I won't," he promised. "It was wrong to go, I know that now, but there were things I needed to deal with on my own."

That afternoon, they sat around the table as Harry told them the entire tale of why he had left and what he had done in the muggle world. Draco got the impression that Mrs. Weasley didn't entirely understand the gravity of his addiction to oxy, but he did see Arthur's eyes darken for a second. Reaching out, Draco took Harry's hand and squeezed tight. There was no need to ask how his lover was feeling; he already knew that Harry was ashamed and scared. 

When Harry had said all that he needed to, the Weasley's exchanged looks. Finally, Arthur spoke: "We understand, Harry. You were always like one of our own, and that was how we mourned you. Having you back is like having one of our sons walk through that door again."

Molly sobbed loudly. "You're back now. That's all that matters. And soon as can be we'll get you healthy again."

With that, an assortment of food appeared on the table that could be likened to a feast a Hogwarts on a slightly larger scale. Harry laughed. "I have missed your cooking."

That evening, Draco laid in Harry's arms contentedly. "I'm glad you decided to go," he told him.

Sighing deeply, Harry agreed, "Now, I can begin life over again. And it's all because of you. Do you have any idea what you mean to me, Draco?"

The blonde nodded firmly. "I do, because you did that for me once too. That and because we are part of each other…and not just because of that potion either. You are my soul."

Harry smiled. "Who would have thought that we would end up together?"

Draco lifted his chin high. "I did. I always knew that you secretly adored me."  
Kissing him passionately, Draco felt the rush of his own blood and the intensity of Harry's desire, but there was more he wanted to do before they went back to bed. He stood up. "Come on. There's somewhere I want to take you."

The two walked the streets of New York hand in hand. How long Draco had dreamed of this! He grinned like an excited schoolboy.

"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked.

"You'll see," Draco told him. They walked for a while longer before they stopped in front of a jazz club. "Here."

Inside, they were met by a beautiful woman in a black dress….one that he personally had designed. She smiled at the pair. "I was wondering where you've been."

Draco beamed at her. "Eva, may I introduce you to Harry Potter. Harry, this is Eva Bell."

Eva reached out a manicured hand. "Pleased to meet you. Both of you, order whatever you want on the house tonight. This is a special night."

At the table, Harry was quiet for a moment. "Did you bring many dates here?"

Draco's mouth nearly fell open. "Harry, there was never anyone else."

"I know this may seem odd, but why not? When I was away, I kept telling myself that you would be happy with someone else. That if you thought I was dead, you would move one," Harry explained.

Closing his eyes, Draco tied to think of the best way to explain it. "For the first year, I was in a deep depression. I barely left the house. You were all I could think of. After that, there just never was anyone. I had the business, and I had my friends. It didn't matter to me that I didn't have a boyfriend."

Harry nodded, but Draco could tell that his lie hadn't sufficed.

Luckily, the music began shortly there after. Romantic strains of the sultry sound floated through the dining room, and for once it didn't make Draco reminisce. He had what he wanted right in front of him. Looking back wasn't important, not when compared to what he had now. The sparkling green eyes staring at him were all he could ever ask for. So many nights, Draco had sat at this table wishing. Dreams came true.

After the last song had finished, they began their walk back to the apartment. Draco didn't want to break the feeling by hailing a cab, but then he heard something that changed his mind. 

Two older teenage boys walked passed them snickering. "I didn't know Freddie Kruger was a fag," one said to the other. 

Harry's face turned red. If Draco hadn't had a tight hold on his good arm, he had the feeling Harry would have gone after them. "I'm used to it," Draco told him plainly.

Not another word was said until they were safely inside Draco's apartment. "Why wouldn't you let me say anything?"

Draco shrugged. "What would it change? I'm ugly, deformed, scarred, and I always will be. People will always stare and be rude. I've come to terms with it."

"No," Harry said.

"No? Harry, I've been down this road before. There is nothing magic can do for it, and given what happened when Arthur tired muggle medicine on magic wounds, I'm not willing to take that big of a risk. I'll look like this forever." He looked away. "I thought you accepted me scars and all?"

"You don't understand."

Anger built in his gut. "No, I understand perfectly. You didn't think you'd be stuck forever with a hideous freak."

"Shut up, Draco!" Harry yelled. His jaw was set firmly. "I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was that you are not ugly at all. I can't believe that you would ever think that you were. You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

"Harry, don't lie to me like that," Draco pleaded.

Harry shook his head. "You are beautiful. Whether the rest of the world sees it or not, you are perfect to me. The scars are only something that matters when someone doesn't know you. And if anyone knows where to find real beauty, all they have to do is look in your eyes."

"I love you, Harry."

"And I love you. I'm going to make sure you never doubt that, or that you are beautiful. Do you believe me?"

Draco nodded. "I believe you. This is the way things were meant to be."


	27. Beautiful Soul II

ANLONG over due, and not my best work. I am sorry about that. Like I've said in my other fics, I have been having computer problems and a bunch of other junk, so this kind of got pushed to the back burner. Sorry about that…besides, I know you all skip to the HPDM and SSNL parts anyway.

Beautiful Soul II

Hermione was dreaming, and she knew it. She was running after Ron through the maze-like halls of Hogwarts. Keeping up with him seemed impossible, and so she just kept calling his name. "A little farther, Mione," he called back to her.

"Hermione!" A new voice called from the other end of the hall.

When she turned, she saw Bill standing there with his hand out to her. Frantically, she looked back to Ron. Both voices were calling for her. The past and the present were waging a war within her. "I can't!" she cried dropping to her knees.

"Hermione!"

"Mione!"

"Hermione, wake up." A gentle hand shook her.

Sitting up straight in bed, she let out an involuntary shiver. It took her a moment to get a bearing on her surroundings, but she vaguely recognized Bill's London flat. They had gone there after leaving the school. "Did I wake you?" she asked.

Bill nodded. "You were talking in your sleep. What was it that you couldn't do?"

"Nothing," she said nervously. "We should go back to sleep."

He arched a skeptical brow at her, but said nothing. Nor did her try to pull her back to him when she moved away. Right now, she didn't feel right about being in his bed, but it was too late to do anything about it. Lying there, she felt like a traitor.

In the morning, she left Bill sleep as she crept out the door. Diagon Alley was in full motion despite the early hour. Witches and wizards strolled down the cobblestone street with a carefree air about them. It was different from what it had been during the war. Looking at them now, you'd swear that nothing had ever been wrong. People hadn't died. Voldemort hadn't almost destroyed everything.

She smiled as she noticed Fred and George's shop. It had been ages since she'd been in there. A bell tinkled as she opened the door, and she was greeted by one of the pair. These days, it was easy to tell them apart by the slight scar on George's cheek. Tragic accident, he'd told her. They had been testing some very hush, hush new product. She had been much too afraid to ask exactly what they had been testing.

"And what brings my new sister-in-law in today?" he asked with a smirk.

"I was already your sister-in-law, prat!" she snapped. She wasn't quite so sure why his remark stung so.

He shrugged. "So where is Bill?"

"Oh, he didn't want to come," she lied.

"All set for the celebration?"

"Celebration?" she asked nearly dropping the trick wand she'd been looking at.

"Mum has called us all together for the big news."

"But you already know!"

"Yeah, but she thinks you need a little more family support."

Hermione felt like she was drowning. Tears rose to her eyes unbidden, and she turned away to block them from his view. George looked stunned. "Sorry," she said softly.

"Is everything okay?"

"Things have just been a bit hectic. With it all, I'm wondering if I'm doing anything right at all."

George shook his head and handed her a tissue. When she looked at it skeptically, he assured her, "I promise I wouldn't do anything to you right now. Don't look for the same to be said for Saturday."

"Thank you," she said.

"Have you talked to Bill about what's bothering you?"

She shook her head.

"You should."

Hermione knew he was right. After wandering Diagon Alley for a bit more, she went back to Bill's. She found him sitting on the couch with a copy of the Prophet in his hands. "Feeling better?" he asked.

She shook her head. Starting from the beginning, she told him of all of her fears and nightmares. When she was finished, she looked to him for some sort of answer. His eyes were filled with sincerity as he spoke. "Don't you see what is wrong with that nightmare? I would never call you away from Ron, nor would his spirit ever want you to be alone. Hermione, I love you enough that if he were still alive, I would let you be happy. "

"I guess I just needed to hear that. This whole bloody month has been so confusing. I'm not sure what to think anymore," she said sinking into the couch next to him.

He frowned. "Getting married is a bad idea."

"No. Honestly, I want to. I just…"

Bill pulled her into a hug. "You need time. I'm willing to wait until things settle down. Don't think that you'll lose me if we don't jump into things."

In her heart, Hermione knew that he was right. She was so afraid to lose him that she had rushed into things. Looking back, she had so little time with Ron that it made her wary of taking things slowly. She bit her lip. "Thank you," she said softly. "I'm sorry, Bill. I really I am. I do love you, though. You believe that right?"

A smile crossed his handsome face. "Of course I do, and if I didn't I'd find a way to make you love me."

"That confident?"

He nodded, and began kissing her neck. His hands moved deftly down her body sending waves of pleasure through her. There was no doubt that he had every reason to be confident. "I want to spend the rest of my life doing this to you, Hermione, and I'm willing to earn it."

Her fears melted away completely as she was taken in by every move and every word he made. This was the perfect beginning to a new chapter in her life. For the first time, she realized that the past had only led her to this.


	28. Beautiful Soul III

Beautiful Soul III

Severus willed his lips to remain in his permanent sneer as he watched Neville smile and murmur something to Maevan. It still annoyed him to watch the witch whisper into his ear at every meal. He assumed it was some sort of inside joke the two shared. His pride demanded that he say nothing about it, but it still irked him to no end. The dark haired woman winked at him mysteriously as he took his seat beside Neville. She was one of a bare handful of people who knew that the two men were lovers.

"Good morning, Severus," Neville said cheerfully. He carefully sprinkled a few dashes of salt and pepper into his palm before putting them onto his eggs, and tapping his fork over them. His lover's eating habits were a mild curiosity to him. The pair rarely discussed the mechanics of Neville's blindness, though Severus imagined that at some point they would have to.

Forced into a verbal reply, Snape muttered an unenthusiastic "good morning."

The Great Hall was filled with chattering students. Years at the school had made Severus immune to them. Only when he was teaching did he really pay any attention to them, but Neville was different. He greeted the students that passed by the table as he recognized them by voice. In fact, students gravitated toward him. Each one had something to say about this or that, and Neville's reactions showed just how much each one matted to him. The ministry had no idea that their idiotic mandates were taking the best teacher the school had seen in years away.

When the meal was over, everyone filed out of the room to enjoy their Saturday. The professors all had work to do, and Neville and Severus were no exceptions. They found themselves in Neville's chambers. After placing the translating charm on Neville's stack of essays, Severus began to pour over his own, but as always he couldn't help watching Neville's fingers fly across the page.

"How long did it take you to learn that?" he finally asked.

Neville shrugged. "It took me over a year to really get good at it. It takes time to get your brain to recognize what you're feeling as words. You need to learn to think in Braille rather than in print—if that makes any sense to you at all. It's like learning another spoken language when you really are trying to be fluent."

The potions master thought about that for a moment. He'd never really considered that it would be that complicated, but it made sense to think of it as a second language of sorts. "You seem to be quite good at it."

"I used to be a faster reader when I could see. Some of my muggle friends can read Braille much faster than even that, but they were mostly born blind. I don't know what I would have done without them," he added with a sad smile. "I didn't want to accept the fact that there was anything wrong with me until I absolutely had to. Braille seemed like giving in at the time."

After that, they went back to their work and said relatively little as the day wore on. Noon came before they knew and Severus had a house elf bring them lunch in Neville's chambers. It occurred to him that this was the first meal they had shared outside of the Great Hall.

Neville began to laugh as he sat down at the table. "Maevan tells me you haven't figured out our little joke yet. I was certain that you would have by now."

"Well, I haven't," Severus said churlishly.

"She's telling me what's in front of me on my plate." Neville was still chuckling at him. "She tells me what's where by what "time" it's located at"

It made sense, but that didn't mean that he wasn't thoroughly annoyed. "Do tell me if there are any other secrets you and Quinn decide to keep."

"No more secrets," Neville promised.

The afternoon seemed to drag on forever. In his current mood, Severus was even less forgiving with his students' work than he normally was. It did bring up the question of what he would do when he left Hogwarts. He had no real intention of teaching ever again after this, but he wasn't about to do nothing for the rest of his life. More and more, leaving Hogwarts was becoming a certainty. The ministry was not going to budge it seemed. One official even had the gall to say that he was going to try and see a law passed restricting the magic of all blind wizards.

Finally, Neville tossed down the essay he'd been reading. "Enough of this," he said. Reaching out a hand to Severus, he pulled the potions master into the bedroom.

Snape smiled greedily as he watched Neville doff his clothes paying close attention to muscles in Neville's arms and chest. Normally, they kept their sexual escapades to the dark of night. He gently began to place kisses across Neville's bare collar bone, and then bit down on his shoulder. He had found that his lover enjoyed things like that. The two of them were not shy about sex. They both took full advantage of every opportunity.

When they were finished, they laid in bed rather exhausted. The candles in the room had illuminated automatically at dusk. Neville's eyes seemed to follow the flames as they illuminated one by one. "Can you see the light?" Severus asked. Why not ask the questions he had been holding back, he thought blandly.

Neville nodded. "I can tell the difference between light and dark. I can also make out basic shapes in bright light, but I don't see much detail or color. I used to have a bit of central vision that was fairly clear, but not so much anymore. RP is different for everyone."

"Have you ever thought about trying potions again?"

"No, and I wouldn't."

Severus snorted. "If we're going to the muggle word, what would it matter anyway?"

"You have no idea what it is to depend on a potion, do you?" Neville asked softly.

"I've lived my life devoted to them," Snape retorted. He couldn't believe that Neville wouldn't take the chance to see again.

"It drained me of everything, and not just magic either. I felt lost. In my head, I would know something one minute and have it gone the next. Worst of all, I doubted everything I did. I would rather be blind than face that again. And even if I did try, there is no guarantee that it would work again."

Though he had more faith in his own potions, Severus wasn't about to force the issue. "If it's what you want."

A seductive smile crossed Neville's face. "What I want, eh?" He kissed the older man passionately. "You are what I want."

They laid in bed for a long time. Severus was infinitely thankful that his lover knew when to be quiet, but there were a number of things that he was thankful for at the moment.

A knock at the door jarred them from the peacefulness. Neville swore softly and threw on his pants. "Coming," he called out.

Severus began to dress hurriedly. Unlike Neville, he hadn't taken the time to put his clothes neatly at the edge of the bed. They both looked disheveled when Headmistress Hooch came in. There was an unmistakable twinkle in her eye, and she had obviously figured out what they had been doing. "I am terribly sorry to interrupt you," she said holding back a laugh.

"No problem at all," Neville assured her.

Speak for yourself, the darker man thought, but said nothing.

Madame Hooch sighed. "I do have bad news, I'm afraid. The Ministry absolutely refuses to hear us out on this issue. Perhaps if Harry Potter were to…."

"Harry has done enough," Severus said resolutely. He knew Neville would agree.

Rolanda looked crestfallen. "You will both at least finish out the school year?"

He narrowed his eyes uselessly at the blind man. "Did you say anything?"

Neville shook his head, and Rolanda was laughing. "I guessed. It was exactly what Minerva and I would have done."

The look on Neville's face was classic. "You and Professor McGonagall? Oh, I'm sorry. I just never imagined that the two of you….I'm not helping matters, am I?"

"No, you're not," Severus chimed in. "I shall assist you in finding a replacement."

"Already taken care of. There is a young woman who came very highly recommended. January Austin is a graduate from Salem, and she's agreed to spend the remainder of the semester as your assistant to prove herself to you."

He raised a black brow at that. "Were you planning on telling me any of this?"

"I think she just did," an unfamiliar voice drawled from the open door. Beside Maevan stood a petite woman with short, black hair streaked with red dressed in a black lace skirt and a peasant top. "January Austin," she said offering a gloved hand. Her olive green eyes told him that she was sizing him up every bit as much as he was.

"Severus Snape," he returned flatly.

Maevan leaned close to Neville, but Severus could hear what she said. "Is it just me, or did the temperature drop in here?"

He turned to glare at the woman. "I don't believe you have any reason to be here for this," he said pointedly.

"And miss the opportunity to see my baby cousin succeed?"

"Christ, I should have known."

Rolanda seemed to be finding this all very amusing. "Well, now that introductions have been made, I think we'll continue our tour. I will see you this evening, Severus?"

He nodded curtly, and waited until the door was shut behind them. "What the hell is she thinking?" he muttered

Neville wrapped an arm around Snape's waist. "Probably what she thinks is best."

"But HER? I already hate the woman."

The light haired man sighed. "You hate her because she is taking part of your life over."

Severus knew he was right.

"Are you sure—are you absolutely, without a doubt sure that you want to do this? We haven't exactly been together very long, and I won't hold it against you if you aren't," Neville told him with a slightly pained tone of voice.

It took him a moment to say anything at all, but not because he didn't know his answer. He wanted to be certain that he said it all correctly. "Neville, I am not the kind of man to do much frivolously," he began. "If I do anything, it is because I am sure. I can't promise you that I will learn to love the muggle world…let alone muggle America. But I do know that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I let you leave here without me."

Neville smiled. "I love you."

"I know, and it's a damned good thing you do."

"Why is that?"

Severus cocked a brow. "Because I would have merely slipped you a love potion, and seduced you."

"It was all a ploy to get me in bed?" Neville could barely contain his laughter.

"Yes, now I suggest you get back to bed, or I'll have you serve detention with me in dungeons until you have learned you lesson." 

"I would enjoy nothing more."


	29. Epilogue

Thank you so much for hanging in there and finishing this story! I know I haven't been the most consistent with updates, but I did enjoy writing it.

P.S. This is a 3 in 1 chap of sorts, and this was by far the hardest to write for me.

Epilogue: Ever After

Draco rolled over in bed and poked Harry in the ribs. "It's your turn," he said groggily.

"Oh, no it isn't," Harry returned. "I got her the last two times."

"Fine," the blonde conceded throwing on a robe.

He walked down the hall to their daughter's room to find Adrianna Renee Michaels Black screaming at the top of her four month old lungs. She looked directly at her father and seemed to quiet down—if only a little. Picking her up, he began to whisper soothing words into her ear. "Daddy's got you, love. Shhhhh."

Adrianna looked at him with large green eyes, and began to suck on her chubby, little fingers. She enjoyed terrorizing them at night. Only Harry and Draco missed out on the fun of this. They hadn't had a decent night's sleep since she was born, and they wouldn't have it any other way. Tiny Addy had been the final part to their happiness. It still amazed him that something so small could make such a difference in their lives. He knew that at times—even after they had been reunited, Harry still wondered what it had all be for. The answer had come in June, weighing in at a mere seven pounds and looking back at him with Lily Potter's eyes. If it meant getting to have Adrianna, they both would relive all of the pain again just to get to this moment.

Offering a warmed bottle to his daughter, Draco sat in the rocking chair in the living room, and began humming softly. She wasn't old enough to realize that neither of her fathers could sing.

"Have I told you how beautiful you two are together?" Harry asked leaning in the door way. His hair was standing on end and he still had a bemused look on his face.

"You may have mentioned it," Draco replied with a smile.

Harry knelt down and stroked the infant's dark hair. They had each donated several samples of sperm before the invitro finally worked, and they hadn't been necessarily concerned with "who's" daughter she was biologically, but there was no denying that she shared Harry's genes. Draco knew that, and if anything, he loved her more for it. "Next," Harry said with an impish grin, "I think we need a blonde haired angel."

Looking down at her finally contented face, Draco smiled. "Yes, but let's at least get this one off to school first."

"We have a big day tomorrow," Harry told their daughter. "You're going to your first party."

Draco found it adorable when Harry talked to her like that.

When she was finally back to sleep, Draco leaned his head on his husband's shoulder. "Did you ever think we'd be this happy?"

"I didn't know I could be this happy."

Draco kissed him deeply on the mouth. He wasn't too tired that he would pass up an opportunity like this. The two crept off to their own room, where they each shed their boxers. They still made love like it was the first time, every time. Kissing and touching everywhere. There were no more boundaries between them.

Harry caressed Draco's cheek. "So beautiful," he murmured just before he entered. Draco no longer questioned those words. If he was beautiful to Harry, the world could fuck off. This was theirs and theirs alone. This was their happily ever after.

Dbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbddbdbdb

"RONALD WEASLEY, DO NOT PUSH YOUR SISTER!" The shrill, matronly voice rang through the air, and was an odd delight for everyone who heard it. Molly picked up her two year old granddaughter Ginny, and kissed a skinned elbow.

Four-year old Ron, made a pouting face at his grandmother, and looked at his mother for help. "She took my truck!"

Hermione sighed and pulled the boy on to her lap—which there wasn't much of given the fact that she was already large with the next addition to their own little clan. "You need to share, darling."

Just then, something caught the boy's attention. "Uncle Harry! Uncle Draco!"

Harry bent over and scooped his Godson up with his good arm. Ron locked his arms around Harry's neck. "I heard that it's someone's birthday today."

"It's mine! Did you buy me something?"

"I think we might have," the dark haired man said with a laugh.

Hermione smiled and moved to take the sleeping bundle from Draco's arms. Peering down at the tiny girl, Hermione couldn't help but remember Ron and Ginny being the same size. She kissed Draco on the cheek. "She looks so peaceful."

Draco chuckled. "She's definitely peaceful from about two in the afternoon until midnight when she decides it's time to play."

Hermione was about to compare parenting notes when she saw Severus and Neville come in. Severus was looking quite annoyed, and Neville had his usual smile in place. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it," she said teasingly.

The potions master sneered at that. "Someone lost track of time."

That "someone" shrugged. "We didn't miss anything, did we?"

"Harry and Draco have only just arrived," she assured him.

"Where is Bill?" Draco asked.

Hermione could only grin at that. "Outside looking at Arthur's new car."

That brought back memories. Hermione would never forget the time Harry and Ron stole the flying car. Ron had been in such trouble for it. There was a great deal of laughter and of reminiscing that day. Even Severus chimed in a time or two to comment on how insufferable they had all been as teenagers. Harry told stories of all of the ways Ron had annoyed her, including tormenting her about her house elf liberation movement. By the time it was over, her face hurt from laughing

Unlike before, she now cherished these memories. They no longer made her want to curl into a ball and cry. That had been another time, and another life. Everything that had happened since then had mended the gaps in her heart. Her children and her husband brought her back to life after so long of going through the motions. She knew that this was the life that Ron would have wanted her to live.

Bill and Arthur came in just in time to catch the tail end of a story, and Bill put his arms around his wife. His hands marveled at the expanse of her. She knew that it brought him great joy to see her like this. The healers had told her that she would never bear children. It was safe to say, the healers were wrong.

The group of all was ushered into the kitchen by Molly to where she had a slightly lopsided chocolate cake. Everyone but Severus joined in a hearty rendition of "Happy Birthday," and Ron's impish face was aglow as he blew out the candles.

When the cake had been cut and the presents opened, Bill stood up and raised a bottle of butterbeer. "I would like to thank you all for coming. Hermione and I are always happy to see you…well, almost always," he corrected looking at the twins. "I wanted to let you know that I was recently asked to take over the Charms class at Hogwarts, and I have accepted. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and I will all be moving to Hogsmeade this fall before the baby is born."

Hermione simply couldn't resist. "Babies, dear."

Bill's eyes got large. "Babies?"

Everyone stared at Hermione. "Twins?" Molly squealed.

Hermione nodded, and kissed her husband.

"Eww!" Ron said making a face.

All of the adults laughed.

Dbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbddbddbd

It was good to be home, Severus thought as he collapsed onto the bed. He was thoroughly exhausted. All of the sappy family fun had given him a raging headache. Despite the fact that he had made amends will everyone, it didn't mean he actually wanted to spend time with them. The only reason he went was that Neville liked things like that.

His lover was standing beside the bed taking off his clothes, and Severus was definitely enjoying the view. "That was fun" he said with a smile. "It was good to see everyone so settled and happy."

"Hmmm…well, I'm glad we don't have to see it too often."

"I'm getting a shower," Neville announced. "Coming?"

He didn't wait for an answer as he strolled bare assed to the bathroom. Severus was not far behind. It took him a moment to shed his clothes, and he was treated to the sound of water running, and Neville's sigh as the spray hit his body. The water was steaming hot when he joined him in the shower.

"Here," Severus said grabbing the soap. "Let me help you clean up a bit."

He lathered up his hands and began stroking Neville's hardening cock. The moan that escaped his lips was enough to make Severus want him even more. He pushed Neville against the wall roughly and began working his own hardness against Neville's. Pleasure sent shivers down his spine as the friction worked its magic. Finally, he could take no more. "Turn around," he commanded.

"Yes, professor," Neville replied mischievously earning himself a crack on the ass.

"That will teach you to be cheeky with me," he said before entering the tightness in front of him.

Later that evening, the pair laid together beneath the covers half listening to David Letterman. They were both completely contented at the moment. Neville let out an amused sniff at one of the things on the top ten list.

"I've only got three weeks of summer left," he said lacing his fingers with his lover's. Had anyone else said that, Severus would have assumed that it was a bad thing, but with Neville it was quite the opposite. He loved teaching.

"Yes, and you'll be snoring by ten o'clock again, old man," Severus teased. Neville's twenty-eighth birthday had just passed.

"Unlike you, I can't sleep in. Your lab will be there no matter what time you get up."

The dark haired man was very proud of his potions laboratory in the basement. If any muggle were to open the door to the basement, all they would see was a dingy, dirty set of stairs, but to a wizard the view was quite different. He had quite the set up down there. It was where he experimented tirelessly on new formulas. He had just completed a new version of the wolfsbane potion. Future generations of werewolves would be forever in his debt.

"Yes, and unlike your students my lab doesn't make stupid comments either," Severus added.

Neville laughed, and laid his head down on Severus' chest. "We both have our passions."

"I think the shower just proved that."

"You know what I mean. I don't honestly think that I could ask for anything more," he commented.

"I can't think of much, either," Severus agreed. "Only one thing really."

Neville looked confused. "And what exactly is that?"

"I wish I had known all of your dirty little secrets sooner. You had me entirely convinced that you were a saint. I never would have guessed you were every bit the demanding devil that I am."

Neville smiled, and kissed Severus' palm. "How I loved watching your hands! But now, I get to touch all of you."

It never ceased to amaze Severus how erotic some of those touches could be. Severus Snape had finally met someone to match him passion for passion, and face his snark with good humor. He didn't take that for granted. Maybe that's what made the pleasure so much more. He knew to savor every one of those intimate touches, and return them full force.

Who would have thought that of all people it would Neville Longbottom in bed of Professor Snape tonight?

The End


End file.
